A Fine Line Between Light and Darkness
by Angel Omega19
Summary: With Celebrimbor trapped with Sauron, Eltariel gone, and Mordor thrown back into total darkness, Talion sits at the helm of Minas Morgul, at war with himself, determined to finish what he started. When he receives word of the One Ring he knows what he must do. That Halfling better be worth all this trouble, or so help him Isildur's heir and company will regret his aid. Fix-it fic.
1. The Journey Begins

A Fine Line Between Light and Darkness

The Journey Begins

A/N: ~Originally posted on 1/26/19 on AO3. The fic collection for this games series is barely existent on this site, but I'll contribute a fic to it anyway.~ I finally finished Shadow of War and I am devastated. And pissed. And screaming on the inside at how Cel and Talion's story ended. And I won't stand for it. I will go down with this ship and I won't rest until I find a way to somehow fix the mess our boys got themselves into. I should probably finish reading LOTR first, but you know. Also, this author's note is being written _right_ after finishing the game. I'm going to look back on this and cringe at how stupid and upset I sound, but for now let the journey begin.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize here except my poorly written non-profit story and ideas. For better writing for this pairing, go read some works from the lovely Achromos, who inspired me to finally write a fic for our boys. :)

Talion stood in front of the Witch King's barrier that once barred him from the stronghold of Minas Morgul. Hand shaking less than the time before, he lifted it until it was a hairsbreadth away before slowly reaching forward. It passed through with no difficulty, no injury. He jerked it back, staring at the offending appendage as if it had wronged him. It was these kind of moments that reminded him that the darkness hadn't consumed him, not today and not any other day. So far from the light was he now, but he was not completely devoid of it. A part of him still marveled at how the energy welcomed rather than shunned him, strengthened him instead of weakened him. He was more Ringwraith than man now. He knew that, but so long as he still had breath in his lungs Talion, Ranger of the Black Gate, Gravewalker of Mordor, husband, father, and warrior of Middle Earth lived on.

He turned away from the barrier, back towards Minas Morgul, and found himself wandering aimlessly along the ruined streets. Wights of the men felled during the battle for Minas Ithil ambled along, uncaring of the rubble and destruction around them. The city was proud once, bustling with life. Castamir, Idril, Baranor, Minas Ithil's citizens, all once dwelled here. The city used to be _**bright**_. And that word made his heart clench painfully because of who it reminded him of.

_**Celebrimbor.**_

The wraith had betrayed him, called him nothing more than a vessel, taken back the ring and abandoned him for Eltariel, and for what? A mere _chance_ that Sauron could be dominated, could be put under his control? No. Talion had felt the power shift before, and one thing was for certain: Celebrimbor and Eltariel had failed. Sauron's defeat would be felt all across Middle Earth when the day came, but that day was not today. Yes, the two had failed, and while he couldn't be sure of Eltariel's fate, one thing he **was **sure of was that Celebrimbor was alive.

Though no longer connected, part of Talion somehow just **knew** that Celebrimbor was alive. Perhaps it was the shard of his soul within the New Ring, something neither he nor Celebrimbor had expected at the time of the forging, that assured him, or perhaps through sheer willpower alone he had convinced himself, but Celebrimbor was alive, and fighting. So help him Celebrimbor may have betrayed him, but Talion could not turn his back on the wraith, not after everything they'd been through together. Talion would find him, find Sauron, and with everything he had he would free his friend and end Sauron evil reign. And when all was said and done? He and Celebrimbor had much to discuss. There was one thing in particular that absolutely had to be discussed, but Talion couldn't bare to even think the words at the moment.

He was startled out of his thoughts as an Uruk mounted on a caragor rode swiftly towards him, stopping and dismounting a short distance away. He knelt as Talion approached.

"Speak, Amug. You are a long way from your stronghold," Talion addressed him, just suppressing a shiver at his voice, which sounded less and less like his own the more he heard it.

"My Lord, there is news of a Ring of Power beyond the walls of Mordor. The One Ring has been found." His eyes widened. He couldn't deny that a strange power had called to him from afar not too long ago. Days, weeks, years, he had lost any notion of time. How long since that day? How long since his second life, as Baranor might refer to it as, ended and his third began? He did not know, but it was clear that this life, that this existence as a man walking a fine line between light and darkness, would not be uneventful.

"What more do you know of it?" he questioned.

"The one who possesses it hails from a land called The Shire, far west of here. The other Nazgul have already left to retrieve it." Talion's eyes flashed the color of flames for a moment as his temper flared.

"_I am no Nazgul,_" he growled, and the Uruk quickly began blubbering apologies.

"I didn't mean anything like that, my Lord! I swear!" Talion's eyes returned to their normal steely blue hue as he glared.

"You will bring me any more news you hear of the One Ring or the Nazgul, you and any other captain," he demanded.

Amug nodded and emphasized his assent fervently as he clambered back onto his caragor with a "Yes, my Lord!" and "At once, my Lord!" Talion watched him disappear out of the city, and his gaze fell to the ring currently resting on his finger. Isildur's ring… If the One Ring had truly been found, then Sauron would be the first to know. If Talion wanted to defeat Sauron once and for all, he would have to destroy it. This, however, was not a task he could do alone. As loathe as he was to admit it, Eltariel had been a valuable asset in his and Celebrimbor's conquest of Mordor. If anyone could assist him without getting themselves needlessly killed it was her. Her whereabouts, however, were currently unknown to Talion… But he could guess. If she and Celebrimbor had failed to bring Sauron under their control, she would still be in Barad-dur, provided she was still alive. He held onto that hope as he made up his mind.

He would free her from Sauron's fortress and she would come with him on his quest for the One Ring, willingly or not. She at least owed him this. Without hesitation he set off towards the Dark Tower, daring Sauron to stand in his way when he arrived.

Closing A/N: Pretty short opening chapter, but I also need sleep as it is 2 A.M. and I need to be up at 7. Don't know when I'll update again, or if anyone will read this, because I am a mediocre author at best, not informed enough about this fandom, and have too many WIPs to begin with, but Talion's got a long, dark journey ahead of him, and it starts with a return to Barad-dur.


	2. A Promise

A Promise

A/N: Here, Talion returns briefly to Barad-dur, where he finds more than he expects and finally admits what he was too afraid to say before (sort of). And, you know, we'll just ignore Eltariel's DLC because it just made me EVEN MORE MAD, as if I didn't already dislike her character. AHEM. Anyway, enjoy! Have a brief bit of Shelob narration to start. :)

_In this moment, the future foreseen was forever changed. It is unclear whether Talion would now join the ranks of the Nazgul, but it was vastly clear that the fate of Middle-Earth now rested on more than just a Halfling and his fellowship. He would battle the darkness within, his fate his own as he once said. The One Ring, Rivendell, the Doors of Moria… _

Leaving the city was almost like a breath of fresh air. Though his powers and appearance remained unchanged, Talion felt his mind clear as he got farther and farther away from Minas Morgul. Mordor blurred before him as his drake carried him past Mount Doom, which bubbled menacingly below and behind him. The Dark Tower was in his sights; it wouldn't be long now. With a grunt he leapt off the drake, landing lightly on his feet before the tower's gates. It was strange to him that no new orcs approached, that none swarmed him in an attempt to protect their master. He had a bad feeling about this. With a determined look in his eyes Talion pushed opened the tower's doors and marched in, drawing Urfael.

Surveying his surroundings, and finding no one else, Talion continued on, carefully navigating the tower, frowning at its seemingly secretive and deceiving interior. It looked as any other tower of similar structure would, except perhaps for a few decorative designs, and that was what set him on edge. Sauron's tower would surely be more than it appeared, would surely not be just any old tower, yet everything he saw said otherwise. Climbing the winding stairs, he quietly made his way up the tower, a clear picture in his mind of what might have happened here that day. Celebrimbor and Eltariel staring down Sauron on top of the tower, a violent battle of magic and swords, a failed attempt at domination. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. It would not bode well to be caught, distracted with speculations of events past. Soon enough he found himself at the doors to the tower's outside, and he steeled himself for what he might find. Pushing the doors open with a bit of effort, he emerged at the top of the tower, a grim view of Mordor below and a figure in chains lying in a heap not far from the tower's edge.

Rushing over to her, Talion turned Eltariel towards him, taking in her pale, weak form, damaged armor, and, alarmingly, _**eight**_ fingers. Her left hand held three fingers and two bandaged stumps, and as he grasped it gently she shifted ever so slightly, tired eyes slowly cracking open. Her vision swam until she could focus on the figure above her, a strikingly familiar _man_. Her eyes widened with recognition and what Talion thought was regret as she looked at him.

"T-Tal… ion? But… how?" she asked hoarsely. "Y-You w-were—

"You have a bit of a habit of killing me to save me, don't you?" he asked in response, holding up the hand that held Isildur's Ring. Her face fell then, and she turned away in what seemed to be despair. Gathering her strength, she spoke as steadily as she could.

"Then y-you are a Nazgul now. Have you come to c-condemn me? T-To say your farewells?"

"No," he told her adamantly. "My will is my own. My **fate** is my own. I would no sooner serve Sauron than I would slaughter you here and now. I've come to rescue you. I need your help." She laughed weakly, perhaps in pity, perhaps in mirth, as she looked back to him.

"After all that I've done you would free me? After leaving you to die and losing the ring to Sauron?"

"I admit that leaving you here to suffer is a bit tempting, but I am not so far gone that I would do so. Galadriel sent you to hunt the Nazgul, and I'd like to give you another chance to do that. Another Ring of Power has surfaced and they have already begun going after its bearer. I am powerful with my own, but I cannot defeat them alone."

"So you need me, to use to your ends and hunt down the very thing you are becoming," she replied, a half smile on her face at how Talion bristled at her words.

"I am offering you a chance at freedom to hunt down an enemy we have in common, to keep other places of Middle-Earth from suffering the same fate as Minas Ithil!" With a powerful strike the lock holding her chains clattered to the ground in pieces, and Eltariel sluggishly pulled herself free of them, gingerly sitting up with a wince. "You can either leave with or without me."

"_Oh, going so soon?"_ a new voice asked, sending chills racing down their spines. Talion and Eltariel looked around, Eltariel in alarm and Talion with dangerous intent.

"Show yourself!" he demanded, as he took a few steps forward, Eltariel's warnings falling on deaf ears.

"No, Talion! Don't—

"_Ah, but why ruin the fun, Blade of Galadriel?"_ the voice told her. Bright energy emerged from the entrance to the tower, settling until the form of a breathtaking elf in strangely plain robes took its place. He smiled predatorily, and Talion saw the flames in his eyes, felt the dark energy that encompassed his entire being. Urfael held tightly in his grasp, he and the elf circled each other, never once taking their eyes off the other. "Hello, Talion," he greeted him.

"_Sauron,"_ Talion spat, "You will not stand in our way."

"And why is that, _Gravewalker?"_ he asked, mocking the title Talion had earned. "What reason have I to stop you from leaving?" Sauron had stopped across from him, gesturing to the entrance back into the tower.

"I—W-What?" Talion lowered his sword and stopped, back at Eltariel's side, gazing at Sauron with narrowed eyes. "What game are you playing?"

"No game. Call it… Amusement. Call it intrigue. So far you have fought against the corruption of your ring. I'm impressed that you've managed to retain a part of yourself for this long. But sooner or later you will fall; you will become _mine_. When that time comes, I shall be waiting for you." In an instant he was barely an inch from Talion, a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly into his ear. "Let us see how long the Ranger of the Black Gate can fight the darkness within." As he went to pull away, something in Talion made him grab the hand on his shoulder, securing it there for the time being. There was an energy within Sauron that felt… Familiar… An unmistakable presence.

Daring to hope, daring to reach out, Talion whispered desperately, "Celebrimbor?" Sauron's eyes widened, and as he pulled back and clutched his head with his free hand his form flickered, until taken over by the wraith Talion had spent the last several decades fighting alongside, who he knew better than he knew himself. Celebrimbor, exhausted, in pain, and despairing, met Talion's relieved eyes.

"Talion," he whispered in disbelief, not caring about the Nazgul like attire his former companion now donned nor the dark energy and magic surrounding him. All he could see was Talion. "You came back."

"I dared to hope… I wasn't going to lose you, not again." Celebrimbor groaned as Sauron fought back viciously for control.

"After all that I have said… After what I did—

"The ring corrupted you, changed you. You were not yourself," Talion reasoned. "You didn't see what you were becoming…" He shook his head. "I am angry, and I am hurt, but I will not abandon you. I will **never** abandon you." Celebrimbor gazed at him with awe, with guilt, and, as he felt his control slipping, asked the question burning him from the inside out.

"_**But why?**_" Talion took his other hand then, the hand that would've held the New Ring, gently in his.

"You **know** why. You have always known, and when the time is right I shall have the strength to say it. I will free Middle-Earth from Sauron's influence and I will return for you, I promise!" Celebrimbor let out a harsh breath, out of shock and realization, and it was then, as his form flickered back to that of a temporarily stunned Sauron, that Talion scrambled away, scooping something up from the ground and sweeping Eltariel up in his arms as he called forth his drake. Sauron recovered just in time to see the two disappear over the tower's edge before the drake flew past in a blur, letting out a mighty roar as it took them away from his fortress. He got slowly to his feet, his pained grimace soon giving way to a dark chuckle. What excitement! Celebrimbor still had strength after all, and so too did Talion it seemed.

"Let it be war upon you both!" he shouted with ecstatic energy, his voice echoing across all of Mordor, his chuckle carried upon the wind as his form faded into the shadows once more.

XxX

Eltariel awoke as a chilly breeze blew, contrasted by the warm rays of sunlight shining above her. Sitting up, she looked around to find herself surrounded by orcs, some working, some training, some feasting. There was hustle and bustle in what looked to her to be a very well fortified stronghold. Metal walls protected the exterior, while siege beasts, caragors, varying orc troops, warchiefs, and traps were scattered about the interior, a drake roaming overhead.

"You're awake," Talion piped up from across the rooftop of the stronghold. "I was beginning to think you were lost."

"It will take more than chains and lost fingers to end me," she stated matter of factly. Looking now out and away from the fortress, Eltariel observed lush green land bordered by bright blue seas and a pink sunrise sky. "Where are we?" she asked in wonder.

"The stronghold in Nurnen," he responded. "When the darkness seems to close in on me, when I feel as if I'm losing myself, my thoughts turn here. Where there is endless life and light there is hope." Eltariel did not expect the wistful tone of Talion's voice, but as she observed him she found his eyes still as blue as they ever were, the black veins on his face now nowhere to be found. He looked like the man she'd first encountered all those years ago, and yet she knew that the face would change with time. Black veins, glowing red-orange eyes, and, eventually a helm that would forever take his identity from him would appear. He seemed to know what she was thinking as he turned back to her with a grim look on his face. "There may come a day when you will need to strike me down. That day, however, is not today. Today is the day we make preparations to leave."

"Leave? To leave Mordor?" She got to her feet, an irked look on her face. "Our mission is not yet done!" He was upon her in an instant, eyes briefly glowing their unnatural flame-like color.

"Let us be clear. Your mission and my mission are **not** the same. **My** mission is to free Mordor of Sauron's influence so that Middle-Earth has a chance of survival should their last line of defense against darkness fall. **Your** mission is to hunt down the Nazgul, as far as I'm aware, nothing more and nothing less. My work in Mordor is not yet done, but my mission leads me far from here, as does the Nazgul's." His eyes flashed back to their signature blue as he put space between them, Eltariel eyeing him cautiously. "So **yes**, we are leaving Mordor. There is a land called the Shire where the One Ring's possessor is said to live. The Nazgul will have received word before us, so if we don't leave soon it will be impossible to overtake them." Eltariel shook her head, slowly getting to her feet.

"You are changed, Talion," she told him, "In more ways than I expected." He scoffed at the statement.

"You think I do not know? The image of my guardian armor burns as clear as day in my mind. Instead, what I wear resembles more of a servant of Sauron's armor. The cloak my wife once made for me has morphed into a dark tattered cloth. Archan has reshaped itself into a true dagger, losing its original shape. Azkar is lost, Urfael has become imbued with a dark magic, and the ring…" He stopped his tirade to stare at the corrupted ring upon his finger. "The ring warps my thoughts, draws in darkness and pushes away light, tempts me with promises of power and visions of myself at the world's helm. I am changed, yes, but I am still _Talion_. I am **not** a Nazgul!" The last statement seemed to be more of an assurance for himself than for her. She did not expect his observantness of his current state. She was so used to the faceless creatures with distorted voices and dark intentions, who either didn't remember or didn't care to remember who they used to be.

"No," she agreed, "Not yet. But how long will you be able to fight it?"

"As long as I need to," Talion told her determinedly.

"And how much of yourself are you willing to lose in the process?"

"As much as it takes. If the destruction of my one insignificant soul will save the rest of Middle-Earth, then so be it." Eltariel could hear no falseness in his voice, see no deception in his eyes, and it struck her then just how selfless this man was, how much he had gone through and how much more he was willing to go through to save innocent lives. And if what he had said was true, then some of the Nazgul would be where they intended to go… As much as she disliked the idea of relying on Talion in any way, she couldn't possibly fend for herself and complete her mission, not in her current state. For now, her safest option was to accompany Talion. She sighed resignedly.

"When will we leave?" she finally asked, and she saw Talion almost smile.

"Gather any provisions you may need and meet me back here before midday. There are a few things I need to take care of." With a nod she watched him go, mingling with the orcs as he went. Looking out over Nurnen once more, she leapt carefully down from the fortress' walls and set about finding a decent meal before their departure.

Meanwhile, Talion made his way into the hall of the stronghold, where his overlords awaited him. Prior to leaving Minas Morgul, he had sent a messenger to each of them, calling a meeting in Nurnen. Amug, Skak, Ur-Edin, and Bruz, who'd recovered some of his peace of mind in recent months, stood by the stronghold's throne. Amug and Shak knelt at his presence, Amug out of fear and Shak out of quite literal undying loyalty. Ur-Edin nodded respectfully and Bruz grinned hesitantly.

"It's been a while, boss. Need any head-smashing done, or is this a business call?" Bruz asked a bit cheerfully.

"Business, I'm afraid." He gestured for the other two to rise. "I've called this meeting to alert you all that I will be leaving Mordor for a time, and I need you to ensure that our strongholds endure until my return."

"What calls you out of Mordor, if I may ask, my lord? Surely nothing too dangerous?" Skak asked, his dire caragor curled up asleep behind him. Talion let a small smile grace his lips at his most trusted overlord's respect and concern.

"The Nazgul are on the move, and they've discovered the location of another Ring of Power: the One Ring."

"Is your ring not enough? Is it more power you seek?" Ur-Edin questioned.

"Oh, hush up!" Amug told the Olog overlord. "When has he ever done anything for power? Of course that's not it!"

"If Sauron is to be defeated, the One Ring must be destroyed, and Mordor must be held," Talion replied, choosing to ignore the bickering. Those two had never gotten along. "Nurnen is the heaviest fortified of the strongholds and Cirith Ungol is under Shelob's watch. I worry most over Seregost, where Uruk and Olog resistance is the strongest, and Gorgoroth, where the Dark Tower looms too close for comfort."

"We'll bolster our defenses," Ur-Edin assured. "Our enemies will _**burn**_ if they even come near us."

"And keep watch to the north. Maybe our graugs wouldn't mind a little hunting party alongside the caragors," Bruz commented. "Of course, assuming anyone would care to lead them and not just let them run loose. As fun as seeing all that destruction would be, we _would_ lose part of our attack force. And _that's_ assuming Mount Doom doesn't burn us all alive…" Talion rolled his eyes at Bruz's statements, though he couldn't help but be glad that the Bruz he'd first met was slowly but surely returning. At least he wasn't hearing any more cries of, "I don't want the fort! I never wanted the fort!"

"Then we are clear on what needs to be done?"

"We shall not fail you," Skak replied adamantly. His words were joined by three agreeing warcries. Talion grinned as he left the fortress hall, calling his drake and riding off towards Cirith Ungol with magic enhanced speed. There was one more person he needed to visit before he left, and he was sure she had the answers he needed.

XxX

Shelob awoke, sensing the presence of another within her tunnels. Sitting up after rather restless sleep, she laid eyes on Talion, who approached slowly, hood down, weapons sheathed, questions burning in his eyes. "So you have come. Do you know what you've done, Talion?" she asked, getting to her feet and making her way over to him.

"Other than rescue an untrustworthy assassin and find out what happened to Celebrimbor? No, I do not." She didn't smirk at his words like she wished to. Instead her face was serious, concerned even.

"Your future is changed. The future of _Middle-Earth_ is changed. This quest you insist on completing will make you responsible for more lives than just orcs or the people of Mordor." Her eyes fell to Isildur's Ring on his finger with a frown. "And you will be burdened beyond anything you've ever imagined." She met his determined eyes.

"I know what I'm getting myself into, Shelob. But I need to know… Will I succeed? Will I remain myself before this nightmare is ended, and after?"

"I do not know. Your fate is uncertain now, and I have not yet seen how your rewritten story ends."

"Show me what you know then," Talion pleaded. "Show me what is to come." With a sigh she did as asked, a gentle hand on his forehead. Talion gasped as his vision warped.

_A company of four small beings, neither man nor dwarf or elf, hide in terror from a Nazgul on their way to a nearby town. Two are terrified and one looks in concern to the other, who stares at a peculiar feeling ring, contemplating it with shaky hands. The One Ring._

_A group of Nazgul block the company, now consisting of a man as well, from moving forward. As they seem about to overwhelm them, a great fireball blasts them back, and two figure—one cloaked in darkness and the other in light—go on the offensive, beating them back before the waters surrounding them washes the Nazgul away. The mysterious figures turn toward the company. The figure of light is Eltariel, who greets the company. The other figure had to be himself, and as he sheaths his sword, face hidden by a hood, his eyes glow a fiery red-orange._

_Elves, a dwarf, men, and the small beings are gathered together for a great discussion. The small being who earlier held the ring presented it to the room, eliciting shock, awe, and fear. Eltariel was seated beside another elf, staring at the One Ring with purpose. In the corner, away from the others, Talion stood, eyes fixed on the ring hanging around his neck rather than the one they wore on his finger._

_The company, now larger than before, with an elf, dwarf, two more men, Talion, and Eltariel, approached a large, intricate door on a dark path. A man, old yet wise, approached it, reading the elven inscription upon it. Eltariel and the man went about explaining the inscription while Talion ran his hand reverently over the door, familiar with the work, and the ring around his neck glowed fiercely at the figure's proximity. "Celebrimbor," he spoke softly._

Talion found himself waking up on the ground, head spinning at the new information obtained from the vision. He now knew who the ring bearer was and where they were headed. He also knew that he and Eltariel managed to co-exist at least for a little while, fighting the Nazgul as they joined the bearer of the One Ring on his journey. Silently thanking Shelob for the vision and receiving a whispered, "_Go safely, Talion,"_ he returned to Nurnen hours later, the sun steadily rising, not quite at its height yet. Walking in through the gates he was met by Eltariel, who looked a bit more rested than when he'd left her, color returned to her skin, a pack slung over her back.

"I was starting to think you'd left without me," she joked. "Midday is almost upon us."

"As I said, there were things that needed to be taken care of," he replied, nodding at her improved appearance. "You look well."

"It amazes me that orcs can be… disturbingly polite," she told him with a grimace. "A few brought food while others insisted that, as an ally of _the Bright Lord_ I should get some rest. It was… Jarring to say the least."

"They are humble and loyal allies for the most part, and people in their own right. I would expect nothing less from them," Talion responded quite proudly. "Are you ready to go?" She nodded, and they fell into step as they left the stronghold, a passing orc patrol nodding to them as they did so.

"How are we to travel? On your drake, perhaps?"

"For a time, yes, but she, like any other creature, will require rest and sustenance." Calling forth his drake, the two climbed on as it took off, gliding through the air at an unnatural speed. Really looking at it, Eltariel noticed the drake's blue tipped and speckled wings, not just grey and red like others she'd seen. It also surprised her that when she looked the creature in the eyes before they took flight there was no sign of domination or forced control. As the sun began its decline in the sky, Eltariel cast her eyes down to look at the landscape below, blurred green, grey, red, brown, and blue as it passed swiftly behind them. Talion became lost in his thoughts, Shelob's vision weighing on his mind. All the while, he held onto the New Ring, which he'd recovered during his rescue of Eltariel back at Barad-dur, hanging on a chain around his neck, hidden from sight by his armor. It comforted him, reminded him that there would always be a bit of light with him no matter how much the darkness tried to consume him. There was a part of his soul in the ring, and a part of Celebrimbor's, and that alone was enough to give him hope.

'_I __**will**_ _return for you, Celebrimbor. I promise.'_

Closing A/N: First real chapter and I can't wait for their journey to officially get underway! Feel free to leave any thoughts, questions, or suggestions you might have. Also, having a part of Talion's soul also in the New Ring is something I did for a later part of the plot. Next chapter, we're following Talion and Eltariel as they attempt to coexist on their first long journey together. And maybe there'll be an appearance from some more LotR characters too? Maybe.


	3. Connected

Connected

A/N: Here we have Talion, Eltariel, and Talion's drake, and Talion and Eltariel have different opinions on how to approach the One Ring situation. Suffice it to say neither of them wins seeing as how they're shot down over Udun. They can't even get out of Mordor without finding trouble. *sighs and shakes head* Also, I wanted a mounted beast companion for Talion that he didn't have to dominate, hence my affection for the unnamed female drake here. :)

Talion had made preparations for leaving Mordor prior to Eltariel's rescue. Not only had he mapped out their course on their way to the Shire, a land far northwest, but he had even figured out where their's and the company's paths would cross. The Ford of Bruinen, though he didn't know how he knew, was where he and Eltariel would make their presence known to the company. When Eltariel had asked him how he knew where he was going and what to look for, he hesitantly revealed part of Shelob's vision to her. She was, understandably, wary, and was not for one second satisfied with what she was hearing. The several hours between their departure from Nurnen and the present moment hadn't helped. As the sun began its descent, Eltariel stewed more and more in her thoughts until she could no longer hold her tongue. Sitting atop Talion's drake, their argument was awkward but no less heated than usual, both facing front and holding onto scales and spikes as wind whipped and threatened to unseat them with a strong gust.

"A direct approach is foolish, Talion. You would reveal us to potentially hostile beings and leave us vulnerable to the Nazgul's attacks? No. We need to plan our approach carefully, reveal ourselves when the opportunity presents itself." He looked back at her as he responded.

"And when, exactly, will that be? No. Approaching them and making our intentions clear up front is the best way to gain their trust, not hiding in the shadows and stalking them like prey."

"Because you're plenty experienced with that," she drawled sarcastically. He glowered at her before getting to his feet and planting them firmly into his drake's back. She protested with a screech, and Talion patted her scales in apology as he rounded on Eltariel.

"I will not give the bearer of the One Ring any reason to think us enemies! If he decides we are a threat, what do you think he and his allies will do? Elves, men, dwarves, it matters not. I will not allow your horrible decisions to hinder us on this quest."

"Hinder us?" she questioned, eyes narrowed as she glared up at him. "Keep us safe, you mean? Keep us from recklessly charging into dangerous matters that don't concern us?"

"You agreed to accompany me," he reminded her lowly.

"To track down the Nazgul, as was my mission, and to make sure you don't join them—

"_**I won't**_—

"So you say, but you've said it yourself: the ring claws at your conscience every waking moment with promises of Middle-Earth at your fingertips. What's to say being in close proximity with the One Ring won't make it worse?"

"Is our entire journey going to consist of you telling me you will never trust me?" Talion snapped, irked.

"Until you admit that we need to take a safer approach to this "quest" of yours, then yes!"

"We will never be safe so long as the Rings of Power and the Nazgul exist," he told her. Before she could get another word in there was an ear-splitting shriek as a molten rock collided with the drake, sending Eltariel and Talion tumbling to the ground, the drake spiraling through the air and disappearing over the Black Gate, smoke coming from her hide. Reluctantly, Talion grabbed Eltariel as the ground rushed up to meet them, feeling his dark magic absorb most of the impact from the fall. He landed heavily on his feet, an arm around Eltariel while his other reached for Urfael. She quickly disentangled herself from Talion as the two faced quite the gathering of orcs, and a fiery graug that seemed intent on either crushing or burning the two of them alive.

"Manswine!" one of the orcs shouted over the excited roars of the others around him. "Think you get to leave Mordor without a little goodbye from yours truly? Well, think again! Don't tell me you were just gonna fly by and forget about us Uruks down here?"

"You will regret delaying me, Narug," Talion growled, hands glowing emerald, a black haze beginning to surround him. "And it will be the last mistake you ever make." With inhuman speed Talion shadow struck a handful of orcs, a few of which rose again with glowing green eyes and unintelligible growls, before he found himself on top of the graug, a hand pressed to its massive head as he willed it to obey him. With a mighty roar, the creature fell under his control, and he turned it towards his old rival with fiery red-orange eyes. With little more than a thought the graug charged after Narug, and as Talion leapt off the graug he caught a stunned Eltariel's arm and sprinted in the opposite direction, towards the Black Gate, allowing a small smile at the shrill scream that sounded behind them. When she got her bearings back she wrenched her arm from his grasp, free-running beside him, surprised that it was _she_ who was having a hard time keeping up with _him_. She observed his slowly fading red-orange eyes with unease, the way he winced and clenched the hand with Isildur's Ring, which seemed to eerily glow as he did so.

As they reached the Black Gate, Eltariel purposefully fell behind to watch Talion as he slaughtered and dominated his way through the small army of orcs that guarded the entrance to Mordor. His attacks flowed seamlessly, flawlessly, and in no time he had cleared a path to the top of the gate. She caught up to him as he stood frozen in the place where he had defeated the Black Hand of Sauron, perhaps reliving a few unpleasant memories. The hand that held the ring was clenched tightly in a fist as Talion trembled, darkness clouding his vision.

_We shall be sealed together in death!_

_Talion, my heart. We will be together soon. Forever._

_The Black Hand of Sauron is dead. The Hither Shore is calling us._

_The time has come for a new ring._

A familiar roar in the distance brought Talion out of his dark memories, and he shook the last of them away as he turned to face Eltariel. "We should go to her, then we must continue on." His eyes were distant, she noticed. Perhaps hers would be too if she had to relive the sad fates of those she cared about… If she could remember anyone she cared about… Not waiting for a response, Talion easily leapt down from the top of the gate while Eltariel climbed down as quickly as she could. Once they were both back on the ground, Eltariel followed Talion, who quickly made it to the side of his injured drake, voice gentle.

"Easy there, girl. You're alright." He tenderly felt around the area of the graug's earlier attack, which had caught her side and a lower part of her wing. It didn't look too serious, but it looked painful enough to keep her grounded for the time being. The drake huffed at his tone, but gently headbutted his armor nonetheless, drawing a small laugh out of Talion. "Rest, and find us when your strength returns," he told her softly. She drew back with sharp aquamarine eyes, a soft rumbling in her throat, before then looking to Eltariel with almost a glare of warning. Eltariel met the drake's stare in both confusion and wonder before looking back to Talion, who had just summoned two caragors, one dire and one normal, with a wave of his hand and the flash of his ring. The caragors stopped a careful distance from the drake, who paid them no mind. Mounting the caragors, the two rode away from Mordor at a brisk pace, heading towards the Dead Marshes.

"We should go around. As much as I hate traveling in the open, the Dead Marshes are not a place I would like to sleep for the night."

"Sleep?" Talion asked, suddenly hyper aware of himself.

"_Yes,_ Talion, the action that allows those of us who are alive to regain much needed energy," she snapped. Talion tried to remember when the last time he'd settled down to sleep was, when the last time he truly _needed_ to sleep was. How long had it been? Decades? Had to be. "When it becomes too dark to see we should settle for the night, and continue on when dawn is upon us."

"And I assume you'd like me to keep watch for the night?"

"If you'd like the same courtesy while you rest, then yes."

"I… I don't sleep anymore. I don't need it." Talion didn't understand the weight of those words until he heard them aloud, until they came out of his mouth, and he'd realized that he'd lost another part of himself.

He knew that he hadn't been completely human since before his death. With Celebrimbor, he had been part wraith, banished from death and, therefore. His basic needs had remained the same at first, but over time the need for food and rest became less and less until he could go weeks without either. Granted, he still regularly ate and slept, so that he at least felt normal, but he didn't really need it. The last time he'd voluntarily sat down for a meal and caught a few hours of sleep had been before Isildur's ring, before the betrayal, before the last stronghold fell under his control. Really thinking about how long it had been since he'd done something so simply human and normal had him glancing down at the ring, which seemed to mock his inner turmoil. Eltariel watched Talion's reaction to his own words and _almost_ felt pity for him. Of course the Nazgul didn't need sleep, but Talion wasn't one of them yet. Surely, she had thought, he needed sleep just as other mortals did? Apparently not, and while she didn't like the thought of only Talion watching her back it was safer than sleeping unguarded.

"Well, how fortunate of us then," she stated. The conversation trailed off after that, the air awkward and hostile between the two of them. Talion truly wondered how they managed to meet the company without ripping the other's throat out or leaving the other for dead. When the caragors tired, dragging their powerful legs along the ground, and Eltariel struggled to keep her eyes open they stopped for the night. As Eltariel settled down the caragors settled down around her protectively with Talion closing the gap they left, effectively blocking her from view and creating a barrier around her. With a nod in silent thanks she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, followed swiftly by the caragors.

Talion laid back himself, glancing up at the stars. Folding one arm underneath his head as his other hand played absentmindedly with the New Ring hanging around his neck, he sighed. This was going to be a long night.

XxX

Celebrimbor felt his consciousness return as he squinted against the light around him, harsh to his eyes after all the time he'd spent trapped. Odd. His heated battles with Sauron were usually just the two of them locked inside a dark, endless nothingness, vying for control, the air heated with hatred and stifling with contempt. But here and now light beckoned him awake, and a comforting warmth embraced him as he stood.

Similarly, a little ways away and out of Celebrimbor's peripheral vision, Talion was yawning awake, feeling more like himself than he'd felt in a long, long time. Slowly sitting up and rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he looked around at the beautiful landscape around him, welcoming the sun's warm rays. Trees and greenery framed by mountains in the background and a river rushing nearby made Talion feel much more comfortable being in such a strange place.

Celebrimbor got to his feet and observed the forest-like area around him in wonder, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes fell on Talion, who met his gaze shortly after. Talion quickly leapt to his feet, radiating shock and hopefulness. "C-Celebrimbor?" he asked in disbelief. The two made their way towards each other, not stopping until they were locked in a tight embrace, Talion burying his face in Celebrimbor's hair.

"Talion? What…? How are we… Here?" They just barely pulled away from the other, Celebrimbor still in Talion's grasp.

"I don't know, but I won't question it. We're both here, together… _Alive_, even."

"Alive?" Talion raised a hand to sweep a few of Celebrimbor's ebony locks of hair in front of his face with a gentle smile and bright eyes. Quickly looking down at himself, Celebrimbor saw that he was no longer the wraith he knew he had become, but the elven lord he had been in his lifetime, his blue and silver battle armor gleaming in the sunlight, skin the color of cream, hair as dark as the night. Looking back to Talion, who looked more like the man he'd first met after his death, guardian armor of red and silver, free of any dark influence. A relieved laugh escaped Celebrimbor as the information sunk in. He felt a pair of hands cup his face, and he was once again met Talion's eyes. His gaze seemed almost reverent now, as if he wasn't quite sure if he was allowed to look upon such a sight.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he told him softly. Celebrimbor flushed in surprise at the statement, reaching up to grasp Talion's wrists, attempting to lower his hand.

"I hardly think I deserve such praise from you, Talion," he replied sadly. Talion sighed, resisting Celebrimbor and keeping his hands exactly where they were.

"What's done is done and I harbor no ill will towards you," he insisted, "I never will." Celebrimbor averted his eyes.

"I'm not deserving of your loyalty either," he whispered. Talion drew his gaze back as he gently stroked Celebrimbor's cheek with his thumb. He brought their foreheads together, and the two rested there with their eyes closed for a few moments, just enjoying the closeness.

"You are deserving of everything and more," Talion protested quietly. "You have lost everything: your home, your family, even a part of yourself. All you ever wanted was a way to make things right and a way to make the bastard who ruined your life pay for his crimes. You may not have gone about it the right way, but you thought only of your family, of the people of Middle-Earth who would be slaughtered or enslaved should Sauron rise to power again. You thought of them and you made it your goal to defeat Sauron and restore order and light to every place he dared touch."

"But that does not justify my actions," Celebrimbor argued.

"I'm not saying it did, but you never intended to rule over Middle-Earth as Sauron did, not without the ring's influence." At the mention of the New Ring, Celebrimbor opened his eyes, which were drawn towards the chain that hung around Talion's neck. On it, he saw the ring, looking just as marvelous as when they'd first crafted it in Mount Doom. Carefully, he reached up and held it, turning it over in his fingers.

"You kept it? Even after everything that happened because of it?" Talion opened his eyes and drew back a bit, also looking at the ring.

"A part of our souls lie within it. It… It is a way to keep you close, no matter how far away from Mordor I might be." Celebrimbor looked to him in awe. "And it reminds me that I'm still human, that I'm not completely lost yet."

"You will **never** be one of them, Talion," he insisted, letting go of the ring. "You are stronger than they ever were."

"I don't know if I still believe that," Talion whispered.

"Well I do, and I always will." It was then that the light around them seemed to begin fading. Celebrimbor seemed resigned, almost as if he expected it to happen, but Talion looked around in alarm, hands reaching for a sword that wasn't there. He looked back to Celebrimbor, unwilling to let him go again.

"I'm not leaving you," he insisted.

"You cannot sleep forever, Talion, and neither can I. The ring is what brought us back together, however briefly. I'm sure it can do it again." Talion swayed on his feet, his vision beginning to fade.

"Hora ni," he pleaded in Quenya, hoping that Celebrimbor understood his weak voice.

As he felt himself falling, vision failing him, he heard a whispered, "Illume, melda," in response.

XxX

Talion woke with a groan, gingerly sitting up with a hand to his head, the other clutching the ring glowing and burning around his neck. Looking down, he saw the elvish script carved into it glowing a fierce blue, a surprising warmth emanating from it until it faded, returning to its normal state. So then the dream had happened? His conversation with Celebrimbor, so close and yet so far away from him. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could still feel the warmth from Celebrimbor's body, the silkiness of his hair, the brightness of his sapphire eyes…

"What was that about not needing sleep?" he heard from not too far away, dropping the ring back out of sight, Talion turned to see a smirking Eltariel gathering up her things, the caragors lifting their heads groggily at her voice. Talion chose to ignore the comment, getting to his feet and stretching before gently rousing his dire caragor, which let out a sleepy rumble in response as it stood.

"As much as I hate to agree with you, traveling the Dead Marshes is not something I'd like to do. Though I don't like the idea of traveling in such an exposed area, it would not do to get lost in such a grim, unknown place."

"Finally you're starting to make sense," Eltariel replied, mounting her caragor with renewed energy. "Shall we?" Talion mounted his caragor with a nod to her, and they set off, choosing to veer around the Dead Marshes as they continued northeast.

Closing A/N: This is short, but I didn't know what else to add to it really. I'm surprised I'm actually updated fairly quickly on a fic. That doesn't usually happen. Also, as far as geography goes, I'm consulting the map at the beginning of my copy of The Two Towers. I'm trying to work out how fast and how far they can travel realistically. Also, I just remembered after finishing this that Frodo waited to travel after he was given the One Ring. So. Timelines. How fast would caragors travel in comparison to horses? Should they travel along the river while they're on the ground? How long would it take them to get to Rivendell from right outside of Mordor? Would anyone happen to have a reasonable guess?


	4. Meetings in Rivendell

Meetings in Rivendell

A/N: Is that a semi-long chapter I see? *gasp* Huge HUGE thanks to Jo for their awesome, insightful, helpful comments, and to everyone else who's read, reviewed, bookmarked, followed, and/or commented. You guys are awesome. Also, hi Achromos! :D Here, we continue following Talion and Eltariel as they make their way towards Rivendell. Also, I suck at characterization, so expect our canon characters to be a bit (or a lot) OOC; apologies in advance. This chapter gave me a hard time at first, but I've decided to save most of the earlier excerpts of it for later. Hopefully the finished product isn't too bad. Also, thanks for breaking lore when you made the game, Monolith! You just wanted to make my job harder, didn't you? *sigh*

Talion was infinitely grateful that he and Eltariel were beginning to be able to have civil conversations. Sure they still had their disagreements (many of them) and there were still biting and sarcastic comments meant to rile up the other (from both of them), but conversation was almost… Not exactly pleasant, but getting there. Perhaps they realized that constantly being at each other's throats would only make the days feel longer, the journey feel tedious, or perhaps they were simply tired of always arguing. Not that they didn't still have their moments, of course. One argument in particular earlier in the week sent Talion sprawling off his dire caragor, burned by a beam of light Eltariel had shot at him, but after shadow pulling her off her caragor, quite forcefully, the two had agreed that their volatile arguments had to stop. Now, conversation usually started with Talion, tired of hours of unending silence, saying, "So…" and Eltariel looking to him with a raised eyebrow before he asked a question or made a statement. Today was different. Today it was, "Have you always worked alone?" She scoffed, but couldn't help the self-assured smile tugging at her lips.

"Not all of us can have wraiths to keep us company. Some of us are more efficient on our own."

"And some of us work better with a team."

"Sometimes teammates are a weakness," she told him, an eyebrow raised in a challenge.

"And sometimes they are your greatest strength." Talion had to keep from reaching up for the New Ring as Eltariel gave him an incredulous look, genuine surprise and curiosity, and something else he couldn't quite place, in her eyes.

"How can you still say that after everything that has happened to you?" His mind flashed back to the other night, when he'd embraced Celebrimbor for the first time since _that_ day. When he was in his arms, he felt safe, whole even. He couldn't help the warm, fluttering feeling in his chest at the thought.

"You wouldn't understand," Talion told her after a moment, looking away. Eltariel knew there was more to that statement than he was willing to reveal, but she didn't pry further. The statement sounded oddly personal to her, though she couldn't say why. Conversation seemed to go nowhere after that, an awkward silence settling between them until Eltariel spoke again sometime later.

"When I was a child, the Lady Galadriel took me in, gave me a home, a purpose. She made me who I am… And I owe her everything. This life, it's all I've known. Making friends was never a priority," she answered. Talion looked to her curiously, surprised that she would divulge a part of her past to him, not expecting such an honest answer, or any answer at all. She looked so vulnerable, _insecure_, he dared to think, in that moment. "Besides," she continued, now a bit bitter, the moment gone, "Look where having "teammates" has gotten me. I lost a Ring of Power, became a prisoner of Sauron, and now I'm traveling with you." She stared at her hand with two missing fingers. "_Surely_ nothing could go wrong _this_ time."

"Of course something will go wrong," he told her. "But for now, the only thing we need to worry about is what to do once we arrive in Rivendell."

"Which I **still** think is a foolish idea. No matter what this Shelob's vision says the Lord Elrond will sense your dark magic and label you a threat. And if that isn't indication enough, your Ring will be. You'll be putting the both of us in danger."

"We've faced much more dangerous foes, but I don't think it will come to that. He will count you as an ally," Talion pointed out to her. "And seeing as we're travelling together—

"And how do you know I won't betray you once we arrive?" she questioned. "For someone who knows the sour taste of betrayal better than anyone you _still_ trust too easily."

"Because you need me just as much as I need you," he responded automatically, unphased. She narrowed her eyes at him at that. "You cannot defeat the Nazgul on your own in your current state, nor can you locate them all now that they've scattered outside of Mordor. **I **am leading you right to them. And while I am powerful in my own right, I cannot defeat them on my own either, nor can I safely travel throughout Middle-Earth with my current appearance." Willing herself not to snap at him, she sighed, resigned. As much as she'd love to prove him wrong, what he said was true. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before responding.

"He may not take me at my word," she warned him. Talion just smiled, relieved that they'd **finally** reached a decision semi-peacefully.

"Then we'll pull the Galadriel card," he told her simply, to which she looked appalled.

"You would dare use the Lady's name to—

"Say that you were sent by her to hunt the Nazgul and that we just _happened_ to pass through Rivendell? Yes, I would. He respects her, does he not? Wouldn't he trust her judgement?" She said nothing in response, and Talion counted this conversation as a victory. "Besides, the Lord Elrond is wise. I doubt he would dismiss your words without consideration."

"I still don't like it," she told him after a moment. Talion smiled grimly.

"I'm not exactly thrilled by the idea either, but I'd rather meet him now instead of when the Nazgul attack. I would like to **not** be mistaken for the enemy."

XxX

After another sleepless night for Talion, they were a little closer to reaching Rivendell. Though the caragors tired more often than either of them liked, they'd covered a decent amount of distance since their departure from Nurnen. They were veering more and more towards the River Anduin, now that they were well past Gondor and the Falls of Rauros, and soon Rohan, giving them a clear path towards the Misty Mountains and into Rivendell. The terrain looked to be treacherous and difficult to navigate, but the caragors had almost no trouble climbing and leaping their way through, even if they took a few turns into dead end trails on occasion.

The rest of the week passed before the two could see Rivendell fast approaching. Talion looked like the picture of confidence while Eltariel was wary and concerned, still believing in her earlier statements about Elrond. She noticed the lack of sentinels near the entrance to Rivendell and stopped her caragor. Talion stopped a few paces ahead of her, looking back. "What is it?"

"It's too quiet. There's no one guarding the entrance to Rivendell. Doesn't that seem strange?" Before Talion could answer, he winced, gaze snapping down to the Ring on his finger, which faintly glowed though he hadn't used its power lately. Eltariel looked to him in worry before her eyes fell on something behind him, prompting her to leap down from her caragor in a hurry. Talion tore his gaze away from the almost pulsing Ring to see a dark haired regal elven figure approaching. In his eyes was curiosity with a side of caution, dressed in robes of deep scarlet, stopping a fair distance from the two.

"I wanted to meet you personally," he told them before nodding politely to Eltariel. "Eltariel. I see Lady Galadriel is keeping you busy." She bows her her head briefly as they both look to Talion. "And who might you be, Ring bearer?"

"Mae govannen, Lord Elrond. I am Talion, wielder of Isildur's Ring and enemy of Sauron." It was not often that Elrond was at a loss concerning new information, but Talion's words made no sense to him.

"Isildur's… Ring? That…" His eyes fell to the glowing ring on Talion's finger with unease. "Is what many would claim impossible. The tale is known all throughout Middle-Earth, and yet it seems we may have all been deceived." He met Talion's eyes, seeming to search for something. Talion observed the elf lord, who seemed to be much more than he looked. His wisdom was evident in his speech and his approach, and there seemed to be a great strength within that wasn't initially apparent from a first look. In Talion's eyes Elrond could see great conflict, a constant struggle within, and great loss. But also present was an ever-burning flame of hope and a light that fought against the quite visible darkness that seemed intent on consuming him. Talion was unpredictable, dangerous, but… He was no enemy, and Elrond felt he had a greater purpose to fulfill, something much bigger than himself. Eltariel held her breath, looking between the two with uncertainty. "You are free to stay in Rivendell. I'm sure your journey has been quite exhausting."

Talion and Eltariel startled at his response. "My Lord?" Eltariel questioned, not sure she had heard him correctly. She was sure Elrond wouldn't react well to Talion, and yet here they were as guests of the city. Talion, despite knowing they would be allowed into Rivendell, didn't expect Elrond to admit them so easily without at least some suspicion or distrust, yet Talion couldn't sense any from the elf lord at all. Elrond picked up on these trains of thoughts, the corner of his lips quirked up the slightest bit.

"I am not without my questions and doubts, I assure you, but I know you are not enemies. I welcome you to my home, and it seems that you've been expected."

"Expected?" Talion asked. Elrond nodded.

"Yes, and I'm not surprised. Mithrandir knows many things, often much sooner than others; today is no different." He beckoned for them to follow him. "Come. There is a place for your mounts to rest, and for you as well." The three made their way into Rivendell, the caragors trailing tiredly behind them. Heads turned and the occasional whisper was carried along the breeze as they passed, news of strange outsiders visiting quickly spreading throughout the city.

XxX

Rivendell was absolutely beautiful, from the rushing waters and falls to the elegant buildings surrounded by nature under a clear and open sky. Talion gazed in wonder, spirits lifted and steps lighter even with exhaustion setting in. Eltariel glanced fondly around the city after several decades of absence from it. It was still as wonderful as she remembered, though not nearly as lovely as Lothlorien. Elrond led them to a secluded part of what he told them was called the Last Homely House, and as Eltariel and Elrond briefly explained its and the city's history Talion felt more and more out of place. He didn't have much time to dwell on those thoughts, however, as the three sat and made themselves comfortable.

"What is it you would like to know, my lord?" Eltariel asked.

"Whatever you are willing to share," he told them. "I'm sure many of my questions will be answered if you start from the beginning of your journey." Talion and Eltariel exchanged looks as Talion took a deep breath and began the tale. He started with the day the Black Hand of Sauron slaughtered his family and destroyed his home, of his death, or what should have been his death. The appearance of Celebrimbor as a wraith startled Elrond, but he motioned for Talion to continue. Talion told his story of revenge, of how he hunted the black captains, overthrew orc overlords, dominated orcs in an attempt to raise an army against the rest of those who stood in his way. He told of the fall of the Black Gate, the defeat of the Black Hand of Sauron, and the creation of the New Ring, of his rescue of Celebrimbor and their quest to bring all of Mordor under their control against Sauron.

Explaining his meeting of Shelob gave Eltariel pause, as she questioned Talion putting trust in her after kidnapping Celebrimbor with a narrow-eyed look. When he revealed that he'd given her the New Ring in exchange for Celebrimbor's safe return, Elrond gave Talion a strange calculating look, eyes seemingly drawn to the chain hidden under his armor, though Talion didn't notice. A retelling of the fall of Minas Ithil and everything that led up to it followed, and it was then that Eltariel spoke, starting with how she killed Talion after driving away the Nazgul that had taken over the city. From there their paths crossed many more times all across Mordor as they tracked the Nazgul and drew closer and closer to Barad-dur. Bickering ensued, of course, as one or the other exaggerated or twisted words and meanings to make the other seem like a fool, but when it died down Talion explained his and Celebrimbor's conquering of the strongholds in each part of Mordor, and the various orcs he encountered. He briefly touched on the necromancer who raised a balrog that went on a rampage before his and the spirit Carnan's combined efforts buried it deep underwater where it would hopefully rest for good, as well as the attempted orc revolt by the Olog Bruz, who had recently gained back Talion's trust after a second chance.

From there, he and Eltariel continued discussing hunting the Nazgul, their battle with Isildur and their attack on Barad-dur, stopping where they had the previously Ringwraith Isildur at their mercy. Talion fell quiet then, and Eltariel refused to meet his eye; Elrond clearly saw the discomfort and bad memories retelling this part of their story brought forth, so he waited patiently for one of them to speak again, understanding and sympathy in his eyes. Talion slowly, shakily, told of Isildur's memories, of how the One Ring led him to his death before a new Ring turned him into a Nazgul, and as that very Ring slid from his finger Talion granted him a true death. This, in turn, led to Celebrimbor's revelation of wanting to control Sauron, to make Mordor and then Middle-Earth his, and his offer of the New Ring to Eltariel. When Talion fell silent again, Eltariel continued.

She recounted her and Celebrimbor's battle with Sauron, how they had won, how they had Sauron right where they had wanted him… But his will was too strong. Reveling in their victory too soon, Sauron cut the Ring from her, merging with Celebrimbor, the blast from their fusion knocking her unconscious. When next she woke she found herself in chains. She held up the hand with three fingers, shivering as she remembered the look in Sauron's eyes as he broke Celebrimbor's control.

It was then that Talion told them of how he had seen their defeat through the Palantir back in Minas Morgul. Having made contact with Shelob as he was once more on death's doorstep, who told him that he'd prevented a future far worse than what had transpired, he took Isildur's Ring as his own and left Barad-dur, reclaiming Minas Morgul in an attempt to keep Sauron's influence from spreading any further west. He strengthened his fortresses and fought any Nazgul that dared approach him, until news of the One Ring's reappearance reached him, which prompted him to go after Eltariel. He found her and they escaped back to his fortress in Nurnen, but not before he came face to face with Sauron and Celebrimbor. Talion said not of what they spoke of, but continued by telling how he and Eltariel had set off from Nurnen with the intention of meeting the Ring bearer on their way to Rivendell.

Silence fell with the sun, which had begun setting as their tale concluded. Elrond sat deep in thought, eyes shining with an unanswered question, one in particular that remained from before the tale was told. "And what of the New Ring that was forged?" he finally asked.

"It was lost at Barad-dur," Eltariel replied with a hint of shame. "It wasn't recovered before our departure, and there is no telling where it is now." Elrond regarded her curiously before his gaze shifted to Talion, expectant. Eltariel followed his eyes, watching Talion sigh before reaching up to reveal the chain around his neck, and the New Ring securely hanging from it. Her eyes widened, and some indescribable emotion flickered within them along with anger.

"It was not lost," Talion told her, eyes fixed upon it with sadness. "I took it as we left."

"And you have hid it from me all this time? What gives you the right?!"

"You weren't one of the ones that forged it," he told her, tearing his eyes away from the New Ring. Eltariel recoiled at the sheer anguish she could see in them, not the fury she was expecting, not the mad possessiveness that she thought would take over. "You didn't wear it every night and day, see how it changed the one person who had always been there when you needed them. You didn't feel the sickening rush of power every time it was used to serve less than good intentions, nor did you feel your throat slice open, collapsing and choking on your own blood as you watched everything you'd fought for for decades fall into darkness before your very eyes. I watched the elf who gave me a second chance, the friend I cared about, the one person I thought would always be by my side, fall under its influence and turn into a completely different person, the very Ring he forged to defeat Sauron turning him into a being no better than him. You didn't feel… When…" _When I thought I'd lost him for good,_ he finished in his head, voice that was once determined and strong trailing off as he felt old wound reopen. "It is a reminder of who he once was," he finished softly, and Eltariel felt a pain in her heart that she couldn't explain.

"If it reminds you of that… Why do you keep it?" Talion once again looked to the Ring.

"When it was first forged Celebrimbor was himself, and the same is true for the early days of when we wore it. It reminds me that we were once fighting for the same thing: an end to the darkness, an end to Sauron and his evil, and peace for Middle-Earth. And… It reminds me of what **I** once was, before Isildur's Ring, before I began to change." He clutched it tighter as he felt it warm and glow under his touch, a faint feeling of arms encircling him and a soft whisper making him close his eyes for a brief moment. The anger in Eltariel's eyes slowly dissipated, replaced with genuine concern. She saw when he struggled with the Ring, saw how he fought to retain what little of himself remained. No matter how much they didn't see eye to eye, she would never wish him to fall into darkness.

"And does it call to you as Isildur's Ring does?" Talion shook his head, eyes now open and shining with gratitude for the one he held dear in his heart.

"No… **He** calls me back from the darkness."

XxX

The Hall of Fire was a bright and warm change from the cold, hard earth and cool colored landscapes they had traveled since leaving Mordor. Talion and Eltariel attended dinner in the Last Homely House as Elrond's guests, sitting on his end of the long table. They met several members of his council, faithful servants of many centuries, and normal folk from within the city, who warmly, if cautiously at times, welcomed them to Rivendell, striking up small conversation when the chance arose. Talion and Eltariel sat across from one another, not exchanging any words or glances. Eltariel happily ate her first actual meal since leaving Nurnen, and as Talion's gaze swept through the hall at the merriment of the people eagerly dining he was struck once again at how changed he was. When was the last time he had willingly settled down for a meal? When had he last enjoyed good food or a bit of drink? When was the last time he was **actually** hungry, or parched? He had no answers for these questions. He stared at all of the wonderful smelling dishes along the table. Would food still taste the same after all this time? After another minute of deliberation he decided to fill his plate. Why not?

Elrond observed Talion's odd behavior, his longing stare at the food around him, as if food were a privilege he could no longer have, something he could no longer enjoy. Shortly after Talion slowly and hesitantly filled his plate with a bit of everything. He saw Talion began eating shortly after, heart lifting when he saw a smile grace the man's lips, a light that had not been noticed to be missing returned to his eyes. His gaze then fell on Eltariel, who looked more at ease than he'd ever seen her before, reunited with her kin, at least for a short while, enjoying the pleasures of a simple meal under a warm roof. He returned to his own food and conversations, but kept an eye on Talion for the rest of dinner who, despite the food, still seemed to be bothered by something. As the hall emptied and servants began clearing the table, Elrond approached Talion, who was the last to begin to leave save himself.

"Talion, may I have a word?" Talion turned around at the question with a nod. He fell to Elrond's side as they walked throughout the city, going nowhere in particular. Talion looked up at the night sky, a far off look in his eyes as he took in the stars shining brightly above. How many nights had they spent side by side, admiring the stars and their beauty together? How long had it been since the last time they had done so? Elrond's voice startled him out of a memory drifting closer and closer to the surface, one that would make his heart ache. "Forgive me for inquiring about the New Ring. Had I known what it would cause I would have asked you in private." Talion shook his head.

"It's alright, though I know not how you knew I still had it."

"When I sensed your approach, it was not Isildur's Ring that alerted me of your presence, though as you grew closer to Rivendell I felt it. There was a power unlike anything I'd ever felt, constantly shifting between light and dark, so bright and strong that I could not ignore it. **That** was what prompted me to meet the two of you myself. When you spoke of the New Ring earlier, you said that it reminded you of who you and Celebrimbor used to be." Talion nodded, unsure where the conversation was going. "But when you answered Eltariel's question, you said that **he** calls you back from the darkness." Talion froze and Elrond stopped beside him, expression gentle. Had he really said such a thing? Had he truly revealed something that important with one wrong word? Talion looked away, cheeks the slightest bit of red.

"I… I don't…"

"You need not tell me unless you wish to. Not all of the Rings are evil. There are those that are used to heal, to protect." Elrond's and Talion's eyes fell to the ring on his finger, its sapphire gleaming faintly in the moonlight. "Vilya has helped me to protect this place for millennia." He dropped his hand and looked back to a stunned Talion. After another few moments of hesitation, he spoke.

"When the New Ring was forged, it was imbued with much more than just magic. A part of Celebrimbor's soul lies within the Ring… As does part of mine." He took in Elrond's surprised look before continuing. "The Ring… It is a way to keep him close; it connects us, and… It reminds me that I will always have a light in the darkness." Elrond smiled sadly, his heart breaking a little at Talion's situation.

"You love him," he whispered. Talion's eyes widened at the statement, despite knowing it was true. "You speak fondly of him, and I can see the longing in your eyes, hear the heartbreak in your words… Does he know?"

"I… I don't know. I haven't yet gathered the courage to tell him."

"He is quite lucky to have stolen a heart such as yours. You are a good man, Talion, whether or not you think so." Talion didn't know how to respond, so he opted for a nod as the two returned to the Last Homely House to retire for the night.

XxX

The next day was an ominous one. There was a strange sense of dread and unease in the air, so much so that even Elrond seemed to feel its effects. Breakfast was uncomfortably quiet. Eltariel tried to catch Talion's eye, to see if he thought the same things she did, but he was busy pushing food around on his plate, concentrating, lost in thought. It wasn't until the voice of a small figure broke the silence that Talion looked up from his food, which had become cold quite some time ago.

"When I was told that a man had arrived yesterday I didn't dare believe it. I had to meet you for myself." Talion looked to his right to find a small man sitting next to him, smiling. He was shorter than a dwarf and seemed strangely familiar. The bearer of the One Ring was of the same race, he realized. "Welcome to Rivendell, friend." Talion found his heart lightened to see someone in such a bright mood on such a dark day.

"We didn't have the pleasure of meeting yesterday. My name is Talion."

"Oh! Where are my manners? Bilbo Baggins at your service." He held out a hand and eagerly shook Talion's when he took it. "It's been quite sometime since I've met someone of the race of Men, and…" His eyes fell on Isildur's Ring, smile slowly falling from his face, expression now serious and contemplative. "It's been quite some time since I've seen someone with a Ring of Power."

"What would you know of them?" Talion asked, carefully gauging Bilbo's answer.

"I know that they hold great power, that they can do things one can only dream of. But… I also know that they whisper in your ear, poison your mind, make it seem as if you cannot live without them, that you must do whatever it takes to keep them safe from a thief's hands… And there is a darkness that you can never seem to escape when you put them on…" Bilbo sighed, wondering just how safe it was to leave the One Ring with Frodo. He didn't wish anything like what he endured on his nephew. Talion looked at Bilbo in understanding, glad he was not the only person who knew how much of a burden the Rings could truly be.

"If I may ask, how did you come by a Ring of Power before?" Bilbo's expression brightened at the question, the smile returning to his face.

"It's actually part of the reason I missed dinner last night. Come to think of it, I don't quite remember when I was last in the company of others. Has it been a week yet? But you didn't ask me to ramble on about that! I'm writing a book, you see, about my adventures from many years ago. It started back in the Shire, where I come from…" Breakfast passed quickly into lunch as Talion heard Bilbo's story. He was a hobbit, as he'd learned their race was called, who had become a part of a company of dwarves in their quest to reclaim the kingdom of Erebor. Talion could have sworn he'd heard a similar, though much less detailed, tale years ago, a story one of the other rangers like to recount when spirits were low and a smile was hard to come by. Bilbo told of how he came into position of the One Ring part of the way through his journey, and ended the tale with his return to the Shire, the goodbye to his home, and his stay in Rivendell. Talion found he quite enjoyed Bilbo's company. When Bilbo had finished his tale, Talion felt compelled to share part of his own, and Bilbo listened intently as Talion told him how he obtained Isildur's Ring, as well as about some of his companions from Mordor and how their stories intertwined with his, however briefly or long.

"And now I am here," he told him. Bilbo regarded him with respect and a bit of sadness.

"I cannot imagine living such a life full of sorrow and pain like yours. But all that you have suffered through has made you who you are, and I am glad to have met a person like yourself." Talion smiled at him gratefully. Something over Talion's shoulder caught Bilbo's eye, and he watched the hobbit grin and exclaim, "He may beat even you in that department, Gandalf!"

"I'm sure that he already does, old friend." Talion turned to see an old man with grey hair, plain robes, and a pointed hat approaching the table. The man smiled warmly at him. "Well met, Talion. Lord Elrond has had nothing but good things to say about you. I trust you and Bilbo are getting along?"

"Of course. I've never met another like him," he replied with a small smile.

"I'm sure you haven't," Gandalf said with the strangest gleam in his eye. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the seat across from him.

"By all means," Talion told him politely just as another person joined them, Gandalf taking his seat.

"Good morning," an approaching voice called. Talion looked up to see Eltariel making her way over to them. She nodded to Talion, who nodded back before she addressed the other two. "It has been years, Master Baggins. I hope you've been quite well?"

"Eltariel! How long has it been? Since the battle of the five armies I believe. I've been quite well, and it seems as have you." His eyes briefly landed on one of her hands. "Though it also seems you have quite the stories to tell." She then turned to Gandalf, taking the seat next to him.

"Mithrandir," she addressed him respectfully. "Always a pleasure."

"And to you as well, Eltariel. I suspect you've had quite the adventure since last we spoke."

"That is… One way to put it, I suppose. Much has happened."

"If you wouldn't mind, might I hear a bit of that tale?"

"Of course." She and Talion gave him an abbreviated version of their stories as the four of them enjoyed lunch together. Gandalf didn't at all seem surprised at anything he told them, almost as if he already knew and was simply waiting for someone to confirm it. And that gleam in his eyes!

"**Quite** the adventure indeed! The two of you have been quite busy in Mordor, and now your journey brings you here, seemingly on the same quest as our young friends from the Shire." Talion was astounded.

"You know of that as well?" he questioned, not daring to believe anyone could be _this_ well informed.

"Gandalf quite often knows _everything_, Talion," Bilbo told him.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Gandalf told him, conversations turning to small talk for awhile, until, with a soft, caring look in his eyes he asked Eltariel, "How does the Lady Galadriel fare these days? It has been some time since we've seen each other." Eltariel and Talion shared knowing glances at his tone of voice, both holding back smiles they were sure would tip the wizard off.

"She was well when last we spoke. I haven't been back to Lorien since I started my quest. She did, however, ask for me to pass on her well wishes and greetings to you should our paths ever cross."

"Wonderful! I think a trip to Lothlorien is long overdue, though I suppose it will have to wait until—" Gandalf suddenly cut himself off as he felt a shift in the air, a great evil approaching them. Elrond soon joined them in the hall, having felt the same thing. Eltariel looked to Talion, and a silent conversation passed between them. They were close. Without warning an earsplitting, shrill shriek echoed through the air, putting fear in the hearts of many and causing Talion to cry out in pain. Clutching his hand with Isildur's Ring, a cold, determined glare settled in his eyes, and he quickly made his way out of the Last Homely House. Eltariel rushed after him, watching him dive off the nearest cliff with a powerful leap. She skidded to a halt, perplexed, until a dark blur soared upwards from where Talion had jumped. The drake. She smiled wickedly as they swooped back around for her, and she got a running start before leaping onto the drake's back, securing herself behind Talion as they flew towards the Ford of Bruinen. Talion didn't seem to notice that the wind had blown his hood up, the dark material now covering his head so that Eltariel couldn't see his face. She would not have liked the sight that would meet her.

It wasn't long before the Nazgul were in their sights, being kept at bay by a company of three hobbits and one man wielding something on fire as an elf and another hobbit escaped on horseback towards Rivendell. Talion, enraged at the sight of the Nazgul and encouraged by the company's efforts, gave a furious battlecry as the drake shot a great fireball in between the Nazgul and the company, leaping down with vengeance in mind. Eltariel soon followed, landing gracefully beside Talion. The two draw their weapons, and as the steam from the fireball disappeared the company was astounded to find the two standing between them and the Nazgul. Eltariel found herself shielded by the Light of Galadriel while Talion was cloaked in a swirl of black and green energy. This gave the Nazgul pause before they charged, Talion and Eltariel gladly meeting them. The small company watched as the Nazgul struggled to defeat them, always driven further and further back by blasts of light, the thrust of a sword, or the flashing back and forth attacks.

Eltariel and Talion worked surprisingly well together, covering the other's back and coordinating attacks to not give the Nazgul any time to recover. With one last shadow strike and retreat Talion, Eltariel, and the company watched as the Ford rose up in a powerful flood, whispers of magic in the air as it swept the Nazgul away, the dying cry of one of their black steeds the last sound they heard before the waters calmed, returning to normal. Sheathing their weapons, Talion and Eltariel stood side by side, facing the apprehensive and mostly terrified company. Eltariel glowed still with the Light of Galadriel, but all that could be seen under Talion's hood was a pair of flaming red eyes.

Closing A/N: So… This is all one big mess where I tried to throw in some character development and probably too much plot? A lot happened. Also, I still can't write canon characters in character! BUT, I did manage to actually type up everything I wrote in my outline this time, so small victories.


	5. The Company

The Company

A/N: *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh* I absolutely hate this chapter. The delay in posting was because of me second guessing entire chunks, and I kid you not when I say I considered scrapping it and starting over. Between characterization, plot consistency, and trying not to rush or shoehorn in subplots, I've just been pulling my hair out. Writing in general lately has been awful, to be honest. I just feel like I've hit a creative brick wall. It's really been a struggle, y'all. Any and all suggestions about… anything are greatly appreciated. Quenya translations at the bottom.

Talion took in the sight of three terrified hobbits and a wary man staring at Eltariel and himself. While the hobbits' eyes were fixed on her, the man's eyes were fixed on Talion, and he could guess why. Using the power of Isildur's Ring, especially against the Nazgul, tended to change his appearance. No doubt with his hood up, the only thing visible would be his eyes, and he would bet they were the orange-red shade of fire. He slowly lowered his hood, watching the man's eyes widen as he saw his face. Eltariel and the hobbits looked to him as well, the hobbits surprised and still fearful, while Eltariel looked dismayed. The man shook his head and reigned in his expression.

"I do not know who you are, but I must thank you. Had you not arrived when you did, we surely would have faced our deaths," the man spoke, lowering the flaming branch he held and dropping it into the Ford. "Might I know your names?"

"I am Eltariel of Lothlorien," she introduced herself, bowing her head respectfully.

"And I am Talion. I hail from Minas Tirith." The man's eyes seemed to light up at that.

"Well met, Eltariel, Talion. If I may ask, why did you come here?"

"The Nazgul threaten all that is in this world, and we were informed they were after something, a Ring known only in legend… Until it was discovered by a hobbit of the Shire." One of the hobbit's eyes widened in fear, knowing exactly what Talion was talking about, and the wariness returned to the man's eyes. "Eltariel and I have seen what these Rings can do, and took it upon ourselves to ensure the Nazgul didn't get their hands on the Ring your companion carries."

"A-And now?" one of the hobbits questioned. "If it's the Black Riders you're talking about, they're gone. What do you plan to do?" Talion met Eltariel's gaze with a questioning look. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"We would like to escort you to Rivendell," Eltariel answered. "Even with the Nazgul gone, the path there could still be riddled with danger." She met the man's eyes, not expecting the deep, piercing look he gave her, as if he could see straight into her heart, her soul. She looked away from his intense stare, and he fixed his eyes on Talion's next. Talion met his gaze without hesitation, daring the other man to find ill intent in them. The man was taken aback by this, but found nothing but truth and good intentions in his eyes. The man gave reassuring looks to the hobbits, who calmed somewhat under his confident gaze, before giving them an answer.

"We would be most grateful to accept your offer. I am called many names, but here I am simply known as Strider. This is Samwise, Meriadoc, and Peregrin," he introduced, indicating the hobbits as he named them.

"Just Merry is fine," Meriadoc spoke up nervously.

"And so is Pippin," Peregrin added shyly.

"Call me Sam," Samwise told them.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Talion told him, though the hobbits refused to meet his gaze. "Are you well enough to continue?" With a nod from Strider, the six of them set off towards Rivendell on foot, the company's thoughts lingering on their injured companion who had been rushed to Rivendell just minutes prior. They traveled for several hours, and while he did not tire as quickly as he used to Talion was reminded of just how much energy traveling on foot required. Eltariel, too, showed signs of tiredness, as did Strider, who was a bit worse for wear, but the hobbits looked absolutely exhausted. Talion, noticing this, motioned to them, catching Strider and Eltariel's attention. There was a silent conversation between the three before they decided it was best to rest for the night. The area they settled in was a fairly secluded area just off the path. A ring of trees surrounded a clear, even, grassy area that would draw no complaints of sleeping with tree roots poking someone in the back from Sam. When Strider offered to take the first watch Talion waved him off, much to Eltariel's amusement.

"Is this the part where you tell him you don't sleep?" she teased with a smug smile. Talion glared at her halfheartedly.

"That was once, and there was a reason behind that." Her expression turned serious, but her eyes held a glint of amusement.

"Still, all of us are weary, and there are no caragors guarding us this time."

"I could call her down to guard us. She's circling the skies near here," he suggested, referring to his drake, who was never far off.

"And scare the halflings to death? I think not."

"Still, I will keep watch for the night, Strider. I'm sure your journey has been more exhausting than ours today." Strider nodded in gratitude, bidding them goodnight and settling close to the hobbits. Eltariel regarded Talion with worry.

"Are you certain you'll be alright for the night?" she asked.

"I'll be fine, Eltariel. _Rest,_" he insisted. With one last glance she relented, settling and making herself comfortable. Talion sighed, lying down and gazing at the starry sky as his thoughts turned towards the conversation he'd had with Elrond not too long ago. He remembered his hand gently grasping the New Ring before his vision faded to black.

XxX

When next he awoke, Talion was aware of a warm presence at his back and strong arms wrapped securely around his chest. He was still where they had stopped for the night, but now it was just the two of them, and Talion couldn't be happier. The stars shone brightly, and the night was pleasant. Talion felt a soft kiss being pressed to the side of his neck and he sighed contently. "_Celebrimbor."_

"_Talion,"_ he whispered, voice full of affection and wonder, pressing another kiss next to the first. "Why didn't you tell me?" At Talion's confused silence he sat up, prompting Talion to do the same, turning to face him.

"Tell you what?" Talion asked a bit nervously.

"After our first meeting like this, I took some time to re-evaluate the Ring, to find answers to my questions. We may no longer share the same body, but our souls are bonded in the New Ring. We are just as connected here as we were before, even if our contact is limited." Talion's eyes widened before it dawned on him just what those words meant. Blushing, he averted his eyes, turning away, only to have Celebrimbor gently take his face in his hands. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked again, softer.

"There was never time," Talion told him sadly. "By the time I had realized my feelings, the New Ring had already started to change you. You were becoming more and more distant, and there was never a moment that felt right."

"Avatyara ni, melda," Celebrimbor whispered, guilt in his eyes.

"There is nothing to forgive," he told him adamantly. "For I still cannot gather the courage to say those words to you," he admitted in shame.

"I know, and I will wait for as long as you need to hear them. But I **know**, Talion… And I feel the same way." Not believing his ears, Talion slowly raised his hands before resting them over Celebrimbor's, eyes full of hope and unbridled affection.

"Truly? Do you mean those words?"

Pulling them closer together, faces inches away, he whispered, "_Yes."_ Talion, without hesitation, closed the distance between them, capturing Celebrimbor's lips in a gentle kiss the elf immediately reciprocated. Talion felt like he was in Valinor, and gasped as the kiss sent shivers down his spine, a feeling of completeness sweeping through him as the kiss became more intense, more passionate. Talion tangled his hands in Celebrimbor's hair, pulling a soft groan from the elf as he inadvertently tugged on the ebony strands that shone in the moonlight. It wasn't until they had to separate to breathe that Talion realized that Celebrimbor was on top of him, and that the only thing separating their bodies were thin layers of clothing instead of their usual armor. He flushed at the thought. Celebrimbor chuckled, the sound deep with amusement. "Patience, beloved. When this world is free of the Dark Lord's presence you may have your way with me as often as you wish, and I with you." Talion gasped and stole another quick, tender kiss before gently rolling them onto their sides to face each other again.

"How goes the battle with Sauron?" Talion asked, hating to ruin the blissful mood, but needing to know. Celebrimbor's smile faded, replaced with a frown.

"While his power is much greater than mine, it appears we are at a stalemate. Neither of our spirits is willing to yield to the other. It is tiring to fight day after day, but it is well worth it if it helps in your efforts to destroy the One Ring."

"The Ring-bearer should be close to Rivendell by now, and we shall reach the city again tomorrow," Talion told him, a hand gently caressing his cheek. Celebrimbor leaned into the soft touch. "I have a feeling my journey is just beginning."

"Shelob warned that you would have a long and perilous road ahead of you, and despite my distrust she has not been wrong yet." Talion hummed in agreement, tucking his head into the crook of Celebrimbor's neck as he pulled him into his arms again. He inhaled deeply, Celebrimbor's scent causing a wave of emotions to rise in him.

"I miss you," he whispered, heart heavy. He felt a kiss being pressed into his hair.

"And I you, but we shall be together again." Talion tightened their embrace when he felt his consciousness fading. No matter how much they would meet it still never felt like enough time. "Be strong, Talion," Celebrimbor told him as he once again felt his surroundings fade.

XxX

Talion slowly opened his eyes to see the sky showing the first signs of light, tree branches swaying in the gentle breeze of the early morning. The script on the New Ring glowed bright blue, warm to the touch in his hand, and Talion blushed at the memory of being in such close and intimate contact with Celebrimbor. Sitting up and dropping the Ring, his eyes fell on the rest of his companions, who were still fast asleep. His _four_ companions. Looking around and then up, he spotted Strider perched low in a tree nearby, watching over the company until his eyes fell on Talion.

"Good morning, Talion," he called softly, hopping down silently. He made his way over to him with kind and tired eyes.

"Strider. How long have you…?"

"I had a feeling you were more weary than you let on. I slept for a few hours before I took over the watch. I didn't want to wake you. You looked… At peace." Talion couldn't help the gentle smile that came to his face.

"Yes, I was," he replied. "I trust you slept well?"

"As well as I could given the circumstances, but yes." He regarded Talion for a moment, his now blue eyes, face free of black veins and anything that indicated darkness. "I see sleep has dismissed the darkness from your features."

"That is a relief to hear. I apologize if my appearance startled you yesterday. The Nazgul tend to bring out the worst in me." His gaze fell to Isildur's Ring. Strider followed his gaze, and was struck by how the Ring… Called to him. It was faint, but he heard its whispers, and he exhaled harshly, taking a step back as he felt a stab of dread and, worse, a fleeting moment of desire, almost as if the Ring… Belonged to him. Talion watched his movements in concern, meeting his eyes once he'd regained his bearings.

"That Ring… It seems there is more to your story than meets the eye, Talion," Strider told him, still a bit shaken.

"I could say the same to you," he replied suspiciously, eyes falling on a slowly waking Eltariel and still sleeping trio of hobbits. "Though this is neither the time nor place for such conversation. Perhaps in Rivendell, when there is less of a chance of eavesdropping." There was a silent agreement between them before Eltariel joined them with a yawn.

"Did he actually stay awake?" Eltariel asked, face impassive but a smirk in her eyes.

"You have been awfully cheerful lately," Talion pointed out to her. She gave him a look.

"It does not do to dwell only on the negative. One finds lightheartedness in times of peril when one can," she replied simply.

"Perhaps you should speak with Pippin, then," Strider told her with a slight smile. "He has a knack for that himself." Eltariel turned to him warily, the moment from the day before still fresh in her memory.

"I assume the watch was uneventful?" she asked, ignoring the uncomfortableness settling in her gut at his gaze upon her.

"The animals are still on edge after yesterday's events with the Nazgul, but the forest is peaceful otherwise." As Strider's thoughts turned to the previous day's events, Talion noticed the concerned expression that took over his face.

"The Ring-bearer," Talion began. "When we approached we saw an elf carrying a hobbit on horseback towards Rivendell. I assume that was him." Strider looked to him and nodded grimly. "What happened to him?" Strider took a deep breath before answering.

"He was stabbed by a Morgul blade during an earlier point in our travels. His condition has worsened considerably since, and I fear for his life, though there are no more capable healing hands than those of Lord Elrond. I urged Glorfindel to ride swiftly with Frodo back to Rivendell. He would much rather have faced all of the Nazgul himself than leave us behind, but when the hobbits pleaded for him to save Frodo's life he could not deny them."

"Rarely have I seen someone emerge from a fight with the Nazgul alive, much less with only a singular wound. That he still lives, especially given a blade's effects, is remarkable," Eltariel told him.

"Its effects?" Talion asked.

"Had we been too late, Frodo would have passed into the realm of shadow and become a wraith, just like the Nine. It is not a fate I can imagine anyone suffering." Talion averted his eyes at that. Eltariel, noticing his discomfort, changed the subject.

"When the sun has risen enough, we should keep moving. I have no doubt the hobbits will be relieved to be reunited with their companion."

"Agreed. If we set out before noon, we should reach the city before sunset… Perhaps if we start breakfast, they'll awaken sooner," Strider added thoughtfully. "Though they have more than earned their rest."

Breakfast did indeed awaken the hobbits, though it was considerably lighter when it did. They thanked Strider and then Talion for cooking it, approaching him with an apologetic and friendly, yet still wary, manner. He waved off their apologies, bidding them to enjoy their meal before the group was to set out again.

XxX

The six arrived in Rivendell with plenty of daylight to spare, the company immediately inquiring about the state of Frodo. "He is currently being tended to by Lord Elrond," one of the sentinels told them, escorting them to the Last Homely House. "Glorfindel brought him here last night. It is a wonder that the halfling still lives as we speak."

"Can we see him, sir? I have to know that he's alright with my own eyes," Sam insisted to the sentinel.

"I cannot give you the answer you desire, master hobbit. Only Lord Elrond can," he told him, watching them enter the House with looks of awe. Strider watched them gape and gawk with a smile, glancing around with familiarity.

"I take it you've been to Rivendell before?" Talion asked him.

"I spent many of my early years here. Lord Elrond raised me like one of his own after my mother passed. Rivendell is as close to a home as I have." As he said those words, Elrond emerged from a room, looking exhausted after many hours of healing. His eyes brightened when they fell on Strider, who greeted him with warmth.

"It is good to have you back, though I wish it were under better circumstances," he told him after a short embrace.

"I am glad to be back," Strider responded. "How fares Frodo?"

Tiredly, Elrond spoke, "He is resting. Had he arrived here merely hours later, he may not have survived. I extracted a piece of the Morgul blade from his body, but even then its magic lingered. It has been many hours, but it is done. I believe he should wake in a few days after his body has had time to recover."

"And then?" Strider asked him. Elrond gave him and then Talion and Eltariel long looks.

"Then… a council shall be called."

"To discuss the Ring?"

"Yes, but we shall speak more on the matter when the time draws closer. You should rest while there is still time, for I fear you may not have much of it," he addressed the three of them, receiving three nods in response before sweeping out of the room. Strider turned to them.

"Thank you again for your help," he told them. "I trust I'll see you at dinner later?"

"Of course." With a respectful nod to them both, Strider took his leave, leaving Talion and Eltariel alone as the hobbits had flocked to Frodo's room as soon as Elrond gave them the go ahead. Eltariel met Talion's thoughtful gaze.

"What is it?" she asked.

"This council… Many events will be set into motion, and many things will be brought to light." His thoughts flashed back to Shelob's vision. Elves, dwarves, men, hobbits, warriors, and diplomats would all be in attendance. The One Ring would be there. Isildur's Ring would be there. The New Ring would be there…

"Of that I have no doubt. I only wonder what decision will be reached concerning the Ring." Talion didn't respond, gaze drifting to Isildur's Ring as it so often did, worried and weary.

XxX

Strider found Talion some time later in the night, long after the sun had set and the stars had come into view, sitting and looking out over the falls and the city, holding onto the chain around his neck. He sat down next to him in the grass, a line of trees and the falls secluding them from many outside viewers. "I often come here when sleep eludes me, or when I need to be alone with my thoughts. Perhaps I have spent too much time in the company of elves, but the roar of the waterfall and the vastness of the sky are most peaceful in times like these." Talion smiled slightly, though worry was still etched on his features from his earlier conversation with Eltariel.

"You wouldn't be the only one. A starry night sky will quiet even the loudest of my thoughts. A quiet night such as this… There is nothing like it." Strider caught the look in his eye.

"I feel there is more to that statement, just as there seems to be more to you than meets the eye."

"I could say the same to you," Talion responded, echoing his words from before. "We are both surrounded by mystery, for good reason, I assume." He was met with the same appraising look he received upon their first meeting, Strider unsure of the true meaning of those words for a few moments.

"What is it you'd like to know?" he finally asked.

"What are you willing to share?" The night passed with many tales. Strider told Talion of his childhood in Rivendell, raised alongside Elrond's sons Elladan and Elrohir and his daughter Arwen, growing up in a world of elves and wonders most men can only dream of. Upon discovering his heritage as one of the Dunedain he became a ranger, leaving Rivendell to experience the rest of the world and discover who he truly was. His life as a ranger eventually led him to Bree, which led him to Frodo and the other hobbits.

"I have spent a lifetime wondering what my fate would be, where my path would lead me. Now I fear the decision may be out of my hands," Strider finished.

"The council?" Talion questioned. Strider nodded with a sigh.

"If what I believe will happen comes to pass, I may have no choice."

"Is it the past you run from, or a future you do not wish to embrace?"

"I suppose it's a bit of both, the legacy of my ancestors and what I am expected to become." Strider thought on the question more before asking, " And you? What is it you run from?" Talion was silent for a moment.

"The truth," he settled on. It was then that he, once again, told his story, but this time he started from the very beginning. He told of his life growing up in Minas Tirith, meeting his wife, becoming a ranger, starting a family… and then losing his family and his life. He recounted the rest of his story much the same way he did with Elrond, only this time there was no Eltariel to finish the story when he choked on his words. Strider listened intently and without judgement, lost in thought as Talion finished his tale. Shock was the most prominent emotion he could feel when he finally gathered his thoughts.

Another Ring of Power? Being bound to a wraith, cursed to be banished from death? _**Isildur's**_ Ring? Isildur… a _**Nazgul?!**_ What shook him to his core the most was not the fact that the man sat next to him could potentially become a Nazgul, nor was it that another Ring of Power existed outside of those told of in legend. No. The fact that Isildur had been one of the Nine… The fact that he had lived centuries as a wraith before being granted true death… His eyes fell to the Ring on Talion's finger, and Talion followed his gaze before meeting Strider's eyes.

"What is it?"

"I…" Strider hesitated, feeling as if someone had ripped through his very soul. Could… Could **he** have that same weakness inside of him? Would he suffer the same fate given similar circumstances? "I just cannot imagine Isildur…" Strider looked on in despair, and Talion felt that the look was not just because of Isildur's fate.

"It goes against everything we've been told as children, that Isildur did not die as a war hero corrupted by power, but was reborn as a servant of Sauron."

"Yes," he agreed, still reeling from Talion's tale, gazing at him in wonder. "I have heard stories from rangers and warriors across all of Middle-Earth, but nothing they have told me can even begin to compare to what you've shared with me today. I'm honored to have your trust with such personal matters."

"And I am honored to have yours. You must not give it easily."

"I don't," Strider confirmed, expression conflicted. "Frodo nor the rest of my companions know my story yet, though it's not that I do not trust them. I suppose… I don't want to involve them in any more danger than they've already faced. We nearly lost Frodo. Sam, Merry, Pippin, any one of them could have shared the same, or an even worse, fate."

"I understand… Do you think their journey will reach its end after the Council, that they might return to their homes once a decision is reached?" Talion watched as Strider seemed to realize something, a defeated look falling on his features.

"I cannot say for sure, but… I have a feeling that their journey is far from over." A silence fell between them, the two eventually heading back inside before the night's end.

***avatyara ni, melda: forgive me, beloved

Closing A/N: If I don't post this now, I never will. Originally, the chapter was going to end with the Council of Elrond, but I'm too concerned with this part of the chapter at the moment to write that scene with a clear head. So, as much as I don't want to end with Talion and Aragorn's conversation, I will anyway. Also, apologies for all the negativity in these author's notes. Again, writing has been a whole struggle, but a lot of my WIPs have been unupdated the last few months, so I'm writing while I have time. Hopefully next chapter won't be as hard to put together as this one.


	6. The Council of Elrond

The Council of Elrond

A/N: A quick update? *gasp* **Now** we're getting the Council of Elrond. Huge thank you to the guest on and Jo and Moonfox on AO3 for the feedback and encouragement! It truly does mean a lot! I'm happy to say that this chapter went **so** much smoother than the last one, and it was pretty fun to write too. Also, the actual council scene itself is really… It's a lot, and I think some things that happen are a bit drastic and extreme, but hopefully it's coherent and things don't seem too crazy or far-fetched.

In the few days leading up to the council, Talion saw several parties arrive in Rivendell. While he usually spent most of his time with Bilbo, Elrond, or Strider, he felt the need to greet their visitors. The first were a group of elves, who were nice enough after introductions were made. One in particular, Legolas, warmed up to him quickly after a quip in Sindarin that left one of his companions quite red in the face at lunch that day. In Talion's defense, the elf had it coming for thinking he could talk about him behind his back. While the rest of his company stared at Talion in shock, whether from his use of Sindarin or the quip itself, Legolas laughed heartily, inviting Talion to join them at their table and apologizing for his companion. Eltariel greeted the Prince of Mirkwood, as she would later tell Talion, as an old friend, having spent a winter in Thranduil's kingdom after a mission gone wrong as a young ellith.

"Prince of Mirkwood?" Talion paled, not even considering that there would be royalty and other lords and leaders in Rivendell for the council. Eltariel smirked at the panic on his face, but quickly reassured him.

"Not to worry. He never cared much for the title, though he can certainly live up to it given the right circumstances."

"I take it you've witnessed that firsthand?" She nodded.

"Even his father was impressed with him that day. I don't think King Thranduil had ever seen him take charge like that before."

"A story you'll both have to share with me another time, I'm sure."

The next day saw a party of men arrived. The man leading them, Boromir, he introduced himself as, greeted Talion with warmth, glad to meet another man in a realm of elves. At dinner, he revealed that he and his party had arrived from Minas Tirith, and Talion took the opportunity to inquire about his old home. Boromir seemed reluctant to speak in front of his companions, so Talion pulled him aside to continue the conversation. He seemed to trust Talion, despite only just meeting him that day, and he wasn't used to having someone other than Faramir to talk to, so Boromir told him about Gondor's prosperity… At the cost of his father's sanity. He told of his concern for Denethor's desire for "Isildur's Bane", how the very idea of Gondor in possession of such an item was slowly driving his father to madness. Nevertheless, Boromir remained optimistic that his concerns would all be for nothing in the end, though Talion wasn't so sure. Eltariel didn't seem to trust Boromir very much.

"Why not?" Talion asked her.

"He is Denethor's favorite son, the eldest and more reckless of the two. If anything, I expected him to send Faramir. He, at least, has some skill in politics, and common sense."

"I do admit, he **did** seem eager to see the One Ring with his own eyes…"

"And we all know what happens to men when—" Talion raised an eyebrow as she cut herself off.

"No, please. Do finish that sentence," he told her bitterly, frowning. She scoffed, but he could hear her guilt in her next statement.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"And yet you've been prone to reminding me of that lately."

"I didn't mean to—

"I **know**, Eltariel." He shook his head with a sigh. "I understand your concerns about him, and I share them myself. Let us just hope the council has more sense than that when everyone is here."

"Lord Elrond and Mithrandir are not so naive or foolish to trust Gondor to safeguard the One Ring. They will want to destroy it just as much as we do."

"I hope the other council members are of the same mind."

The day of the official council meeting arrived along with a party of dwarves, several of whom didn't seem to be especially excited to be in Rivendell. The dwarves took a bit longer to warm up to Talion, though a round of drinks and war stories quickly changed their tune, he found at breakfast. The dwarf Gimli was especially animated, and challenged Talion to a drinking contest at the next available opportunity. Talion promised to think about it as they left the Hall of Fire, and Eltariel watched them go with abhorrence. Talion didn't miss the look.

"At least they'll all be sober during the council meeting," she remarked, scowling. "Although that might not matter in the slightest." Talion regarded her for a moment, and she caught his eye. "It is not that I share my brethren's hate and distrust of dwarves. I have just encountered too many of Durin's more hotheaded, arrogant, and selfish folk in my travels."

"I admit they can be a bit brash and _excitable_, but they are a fine folk once you get to know them."

"Torvin was tolerable at best, if he could shut up about how many graugs he'd killed long enough to have an **actual** conversation."

"When did the two of you meet?"

"I once found him caught in the middle of a pair of fighting graugs. Suffice it to say he was grateful for a swift escape." Talion couldn't help but laugh.

"I bet he claimed he'd never live down being rescued like that."

"He's lucky I heard his frantic yelling, or I would've just gone back the way I came!"

The rest of the morning went by fairly quickly, with Sam, Merry, and Pippin cheerfully introducing a recently woken Frodo to Talion after telling of his and Eltariel's daring rescue. The poor hobbit seemed a bit confused, and had a look of sadness in his eyes that Talion couldn't help but notice.

"It's good to see you in such good health, Frodo. I am Talion." He held out his hand, which Frodo took after a moment, but not without noticing Isildur's Ring. His eyes went wide, and he stared at Talion in a mix of astonishment, sorrow, and relief.

"You're a Ring-bearer too?" Talion nodded after a moment, sharing in the feeling of knowing that _someone else understands_.

"Yes. I'll be at the council meeting to offer input if needed, and to ensure no one gets any ideas about taking your Ring."

"I still don't see why we can't be there," Sam chimed in. "We already know about the Black Riders and the Ring. It isn't fair that we have to wait to hear what happens. We have just as much right as anyone else who's going to be there." Talion remembered Strider's words from several nights ago as Sam tried to make his point. _I suppose… I don't want to involve them in any more danger than they've already faced… Any one of them could have shared the same, or an even worse, fate._

"I see your point, but the matters they plan to discuss are dark and dangerous, far more dangerous than anything the three of you could possibly dream of," Talion told them. The three, Pippin in particular, looked even more discouraged at that. As Frodo gave them apologetic looks as he took his leave, Talion followed behind, telling them with a small smile, "But no one has to know you're there." Sam looked surprised, but Pippin and Merry wore twin mischievous grins. Talion hoped they wouldn't get into too much trouble afterward.

XxX

It was nearly noon by the time most of the members of council arrived at the designated meeting place. Surrounded by trees, other greenery, statues, and other buildings, the round stone gathering place currently held a semicircle of twenty chairs, a small round table in its center. An extra seat had been added for Eltariel next to Legolas, who greeted her kindly as everyone else seated themselves. Elrond sat at the open end of the semicircle, Erestor and Glorfindel sat on either side of him. To Elrond's left sat Frodo, Bilbo, Gandalf, and representatives from Mirkwood. To his right sat representatives of Gondor, the Lonely Mountain, and Strider. Talion situated himself outside of the gathering, in the corner of the building walls enclosing one part of the area, but still able to observe the meeting's proceedings.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old… You've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor…" Talion watched each of the council members carefully as Elrond spoke. He knew some were there with honest intentions, while others… Others sought power, control. He listened as Bilbo and Gandalf told the tale of the One Ring, how Bilbo had first discovered it and the events that unfolded afterward. When it was confirmed that what they were talking about was indeed the One Ring, the other groups relayed why they had come. Gloin, the father of Gimli, told of messengers who'd arrived at Erebor inquiring about the whereabouts of Bilbo Baggins, who had taken something that didn't belong to him, and about the disappearance of Balin, Ori, and Oin into Moria. Legolas spoke of Gollum's escape from Mirkwood's dungeons. Gollum had revealed to him and Gandalf that he'd been captured and taken to Mordor, where he'd given up Bilbo's name and location to escape further torture. Boromir declined to speak, until Elrond said, "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." Talion watched with everyone else as Frodo placed a small gold ring on the stone table at the center of the meeting place. As soon as Talion got a clear look at the One Ring, he could hardly pay attention to Boromir's next words as the New Ring burned hot and bright on its chain. He grabbed it with a silent gasp, staring at it in confusion as images of a bruised and battered Celebrimbor staring down a smirking, but winded Sauron with less than good intentions flashed through his mind. He braced himself against the wall and took a deep breath as his vision returned to normal.

It was then that he could hear faint whispers of the One Ring's ancient dark magic, and he saw its effects on the council members, who all gazed at it with a mix of shock, awe, and fear, seemingly leaning forward in their seats to get a closer look. It wasn't until Boromir had made it to the stone table, reaching out to take the Ring in a mesmerized state, that he interfered. Dropping the New Ring back out of sight, he shadow struck Boromir, grabbing his outstretched arm in a death grip as Gandalf chanted the One Ring's inscription in Black Speech. The elves gripped their heads in pain, eyes squeezed shut; the dwarves shouted in alarm, covering their ears; the men cowered and despaired; and the hobbits stared transfixed and horrified at the Ring as an unnatural darkness descended upon Rivendell for a brief moment, a _boom!_ of thunder echoing through the air.

Boromir stumbled backwards in terror into his seat as Talion abruptly let go of his arm, unsettled at the sound of Sauron's warped, dark laughter following the end of Gandalf's words. He took a few steps back from the One Ring, catching Eltariel's eye across the area. Never before had she seen such fear within him, and he'd faced down Sauron himself without so much as a tremble! Talion glared at the One Ring once he recovered. Even halfway across Middle-Earth Sauron laughed at him. In his brief moment of fear, he realized that Sauron didn't seem to take any threat to himself seriously. He thrived on the seeds of hopelessness and fright that he'd planted since the moment he'd arrived in Middle-Earth, and nothing at the moment could stop him except the one thing that would find its way back to him by any means necessary.

"Never before has anyone uttered that tongue here in Imladris," Elrond directed at Gandalf with a piercing look. Gandalf leaned on his staff for support, looking drained yet unapologetic as he took his seat.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil."

"It is a gift," a now recovered Boromir countered.

"A gift?" Talion questioned, outraged, finally breaking his silence. All eyes were on him now, some wary, and many curious about what their newcomer had to say. "That Ring has corrupted the hearts of many people, **good** people, **honorable** people. It changed even Isildur himself, and when his obsession over the Ring proved to be too much it led him to his death!"

"Isildur is but one man who simply lost his way. He had no use for the Ring except as a keepsake, a trophy, a reminder of a glorious victory. You're right. It did lead him astray, but this time is different! This time the Ring would have a purpose!" Boromir was intent on making Talion see reason, but Talion would have none of it.

"And how many others have said something similar, have befallen the same fate?! Even a lesser Ring of Power would eventually have the same effect. Slowly, day by day, it eats at your will, whispers empty promises and false dreams in your ear, until one day you look in the mirror and don't recognize yourself anymore."

"And just how would you know about such a thing?" Gimli questioned, eyes narrowed. "The only lesser Ring you could possibly have is one of the Rings of Men, and the Nazgul have them all." Talion grimaced, already regretting the idea in his head.

"Not all of them," Eltariel told him in dismay, knowing exactly what Talion intended to do. She received many confused looks, and of the confused council members Legolas was the first to realize what she meant. He'd seen it upon meeting Talion, but never did he imagine…

"You don't mean…"

Closing his eyes, Talion listened to his Ring's dark whispers, felt his anger and contempt for Sauron and the Nazgul threaten to bubble over the surface, saw Barad-dur crumbling and engulfed in flames, heard the shrieks and screams of those who would someday fall by his hand. The council members tensed then shouted in alarm as darkness once again descended upon Rivendell. Black spread through his veins, spider webbing across his face. As he opened his eyes, the color of fire overtook his irises. A strong wind whipped his hood over his head as green and black tendrils of cold, vile, energy shrouded him. Several swords and axes were raised in response to the drastic physical change, Elrond, Aragorn, Eltariel, and Gandalf's shouts barely enough to keep the on edge council members at bay.

"You brought a Nazgul to our council meeting?!" Gimli demanded to know. He put all of his strength behind a swing aimed at Talion, but Talion was ready. Drawing Urfael in the blink of an eye, he countered the blow in an instant, a clever parry sending Gimli's axe sailing through the air behind him, clattering to the ground and skidding underneath his chair.

"Make no mistake, I am no Nazgul," Talion told him, hissing at the sinister, spectral sound of his voice. "Though I am well on my way to becoming one. It is the price I pay for freeing the original wielder of the Ring," he continued, catching Strider's eye in understanding before looking back at Gimli. "And it is a burden I chose, and continue to choose, to bear." Gimli fumed, wrenching an axe out of one of his companion's hands for another attempt at ending Talion's life. In an instant, Eltariel was on her feet, blocking Gimli's blow with gritted teeth and throwing him back with a grunt. He growled, tossing the borrowed axe back to its rightful owner in defeat.

"I think your point has been made, Talion," Eltariel remarked, eyeing him with concern. "And if you truly worry for your life, Master Dwarf…" With a blaze of light, Eltariel enveloped and shielded herself, Gimli, and the rest of his companions. "The Light of Galadriel ensures that no entity of darkness can reach us." To demonstrate her point, Talion attempted to walk through the barrier, sword pointed forward. The barrier stretched inwards a few feet, but held, deflecting each swipe Talion aimed at it. As the two sheathed their weapons, Eltariel dropped the barrier, but kept a close eye on Gimli, whose glare appeared vicious enough to kill. They took their seats again. Talion tried to focus on the feeling of the still vigorously burning New Ring around his neck. He tried to let go of some of his anger and hatred for Sauron and the Nazgul, to remember himself, to distance himself from the darkness, but… His eyes slowly fell on the One Ring, which seemed to taunt him, mock him, dare him to take it. This didn't go unnoticed by those who believed in him. The longer he listened, the more it seemed to draw him in, but the burning of the New Ring turned painful, snapping him out of his trance. With effort, he tore his gaze away, the pain dissipating, eyes now fixed on a paralyzed Boromir.

"The One Ring would drive you to madness. Purpose or no purpose, it would bend you to its will eventually. One way or another you would fall prey its influence." Boromir gulped, but met Talion's gaze.

"You say you chose this burden… But why? If," he gestured to Talion uncertainly, "_This_ is what happens as a result of wearing that Ring, then why?" Talion sighed, looking down at Isildur's Ring.

"I was lying in a pool of my own blood, my life slowly draining out of me, when I put this Ring on. I made a promise to undo all of the evil that came from my failure to keep Sauron and the Nazgul at bay in Mordor, that my fate would be my own, that no matter how long it took I wouldn't lose myself to the darkness so long as I had something to fight for…" He looked around at the rest of the council members. "I chose this burden because I knew that if Mordor fell, so would the rest of Middle-Earth. I fight for a future without the worry of a Great Eye, of the Nine, of an army of orcs or dark creatures. I fight for a future of peace. **That** is my purpose."

"Then there is hope yet," Boromir said, some of his confidence regained, standing and addressing the council. "If he can do it, why can't one of us? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe." Strider and Talion, and then Eltariel and Talion, shared a look of frustration and concern. "There are many strong willed, honorable, driven men like yourself within our walls," he told Talion, before imploring to the rest of the council, "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

"Have you heard nothing we have said?!" questioned Eltariel. "If a lesser Ring can change someone in such a way, what hope do you have of fighting the One Ring? It would never serve you!"

"You cannot wield it. None of us can," Strider interjected, drawing Boromir's attention. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked with a sneer.

"He is no mere Ranger," Legolas declared, standing from his seat with a glare. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Talion's eyes widened, falling on a clearly unprepared Aragorn. Everyone turned in Aragorn's direction as Boromir addressed him.

"Aragorn. This… Is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas told him.

"Havodad, Legolas," Aragorn told him with a sigh. Legolas met his gaze defiantly, but took his seat again. He then told Boromir, "He speaks the truth. I am Isildur's heir, and I will one day return to Gondor. As a king or as just another man, I do not yet know. What of it?" Boromir made his way back to his seat, voice venomous as he replied.

"Gondor has no king… Gondor **needs** no king." Aragorn met his challenging gaze, unphased by Boromir's anger and contempt. Gandalf was the next to speak, breaking the tense silence.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." At this Elrond stood, sensing his opportunity.

"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Eltariel let out a breath of relief.

"Finally, someone with sense," she muttered under her breath. It was then that Gimli grabbed his axe from under his chair.

"Then what are we waiting for?" With a battle cry he swung his axe down on the One Ring, only for the axe to shatter on impact. Talion saw Frodo flinch in his seat, checked on by Gandalf, Bilbo looking a bit unnerved as well. Gimli sat up from his place on the ground, having been thrown back, bewildered.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess… The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade… One of you must do this." The council fell silent, trying to process the daunting, near impossible task set before them. Boromir had his face in his hands, just as stunned and lost as everyone else.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," he remarked, sitting back up straight. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the Great Eye… Is ever watchful." Many council members paled at that. "It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume…" He shook his head hopelessly. "Not with ten-thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

"You won't need ten thousand men," Talion told him, startling the council. "For the last decade I have fought my way through orcs, trolls, drakes, creatures and monstrosities you could only imagine. And yes, much of the land is bleak, crumbling, dying… But there is more to Mordor than that. There are forests and plains as far as the eye can see in one direction, and snowy mountains and frozen lakes in the other. There are those who stand against Sauron, entire civilizations that survive under the harshest of conditions, fighting for Middle-Earth's freedom. There are armies…" He turned to Eltariel, who nodded for him to continue. "That fight, united under a banner against Sauron and his forces of darkness. Nurnen, Cirith Ungol, Seregost, Gorgoroth… Minas Morgul, are all allies against him."

"I've heard enough!" Gimli shouted. "Mordor is a land of evil. There are no armies or outposts that would fight with us. Orcs are all the same. They're vile, unfeeling freaks of nature. Killing is in their nature. They serve no one but Sauron! And why should we trust you when you wear the face of an enemy and a Ring to serve him with?"

"These armies you mention," Aragorn began, choosing to ignore Gimli's outburst. "Who do they follow?"

"You believe him?" Boromir questioned.

"They follow me," Talion answered without hesitation.

"You're insane!" Boromir exclaimed.

"How'd you do it?" Legolas suddenly asked. Gimli and Boromir looked at him as if he were crazy. "How did you get them to follow you?" Talion took a deep breath before answering.

"In the beginning… I forced them under my influence with a brand," he held up one hand, which glowed green with energy, "In an attempt to take back the Black Gate and the land we lost. Over time, however, I no longer needed to. Orcs would come willingly, offering their service in the hopes of being able to live freely, out from under Sauron's thumb… They are a people, the same as dwarves, elves, hobbits, and men. They have homes, customs, traditions, a culture that brings even the most vicious of their society together. Many of them want Sauron gone just as much as we do."

"And they would help us, these orcs of yours?" Gandalf asked. "If we were to reach Mordor, they would be our allies and not our enemies?"

"_**Yes,**_" Talion stressed.

"I've witnessed it firsthand," Eltariel spoke up, standing and joining Talion's side. "Talion had found me imprisoned, at the top of Barad-dur, and brought me to one of his strongholds. His orcs insisted on nursing me back to health until our departure, offering clothes, food, medicine. However strange it was, they were far from the orcs that attack anyone on sight." Elrond regarded him with an unreadable expression.

"Are you offering to take the Ring, Talion?"

"Now wait just a minute!" Gimli commanded.

"You can't be serious!" Boromir declared.

"No," Talion replied quietly, stopping their arguments before they could start. "I have my own Ring to struggle with. I have held out this long, but I **know** that I wouldn't be strong enough to withstand the One Ring. And… I know that it is not my burden to bear." His eyes fell to Frodo, who fearfully met his gaze. To everyone's surprise, it was Bilbo who spoke up next.

"Then why don't I take it?"

"Uncle!" Frodo exclaimed.

"I've worn it before. I know the dangers, and I'm not afraid. I started this mess. The least I can do is finish it. Let me do it."

"You cannot," Gandalf told him. "It has been many years since your last adventure, old friend, and as noble of an offer as that is, you are no longer the Ring's bearer, and cannot take it back. No, the task must fall to someone else."

"It is pointless to debate!" Boromir told them, standing. "Armies of ally orcs in Mordor is insanity. The only orcs we'll meet are the ones eager to put our heads on pikes. Taking the Ring there is asking for a death wish. There must be something else we can do!"

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond just said?" Legolas questioned angrily, rising to his feet. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose **you** think you're the one to do it?!" Gimli accused hostilely.

"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir questioned. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli declared. The comment sent the council into an uproar, almost everyone now on their feet, debating and arguing, threatening and accusing. Talion and Eltariel looked around in alarm at the chaos. Elrond, Erestor, and Glorfindel surveyed the events unfolding with no clue how to defuse the situation. All the while Frodo sat, staring transfixed and panicked at the One Ring. Bilbo followed his gaze, trying and failing to desperately get Frodo's attention, until Frodo suddenly stood, something snapping within him.

"I will take it!" he declared, drawing Talion and Eltariel's attention. "I will take it!" he shouted again, and the noise died down as everyone turned to look at him, astonished. Gandalf looked to him in despair, but could not help feeling proud of his bravery. "I will take the Ring to Mordor… though, I do not know the way." Gandalf was the first to join his side.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, for as long as it is yours to bear." Aragorn joined them next.

"By my life or death, if I can protect you, I will," he told him, kneeling down to him and taking his hand briefly. "You have my sword." Gandalf and Elrond shared a relieved look.

"And you have my bow," Legolas added, joining them also.

"And my axe," Gimli assured, much to Legolas' displeasure. Boromir, to everyone's surprise, stepped up soon after.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Here!" a voice suddenly chimed in, Sam sprinting to Frodo's side. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."

"No, indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not," Elrond agreed, failing to hold back an amused smile.

"Hey! We're coming too!" another new voice shouted. Elrond turned in shock to see Merry and Pippin running to join the group. Talion couldn't hide a smile of his own, but quickly dropped it as Elrond looked at him as if to ask if he knew about them being there. "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."

"Anyway, you need people with intelligence on this sort of mission… quest… thing," Pippin finally settled on.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry told him. Gandalf looked on at the pair in exasperated fondness.

"We set out from Mordor at the news of the One Ring's discovery, to ensure its destruction and Sauron's demise. I would do everything within my power to help you, and I would join you, if you'll have me," Talion told them, meeting Gimli and Boromir's death glares head on.

"I offer my sword as well," Eltariel told them. "You will be faced with many dangers along the way. If I am able to fight against them so that this quest can succeed, then I would be honored to join you." Aragorn and the hobbits looked to them gratefully as they also joined the group, Gandalf and Legolas regarding them warily, but kindly.

"Eleven companions…" Elrond observed. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Fellowship," Frodo whispered, testing the word.

Gimli and Boromir seemed to have some choice words for Talion, but the moment was thankfully interrupted by Pippin, effectively shattering the volatile atmosphere and drawing a few chuckles out of everyone as he asked, "Right, where are we going?"

***Havodad: sit down

Closing A/N: Well, this chapter came together quickly. Not too quickly, I hope. I cut a scene that kind of messed with the chapter's flow, and I did some research on a few things, and quoted some things, and I thought some things through… Aaaaand, thanks to some advice and suggestions from Jo, I've got a pretty good idea of how the splitting of the Fellowship will look. I got a lot done for a day and a half's work, I think. The next few chapters are going to be quite interesting and challenging to write, mostly because I don't think I've ever written anything with so many important characters in it, but I think it'll be fun. Thanks to everyone reading, and I'll see y'all next chapter! :)


	7. Reflection and Departure

Reflection and Departure

A/N: The Fellowship has some time to consider just what they signed themselves up to do. Also, Eltariel has a heart in there somewhere, and gets a thing or two off her chest. Also also, Bilbo is the best. After a _very_ long two month wait, goodbyes are said, threats are spoken, and Rivendell is left behind as our heroes set out to do the unthinkable. I'm sorry if it's a bit all over the place; this was another chapter that kind of fought me. Filling a two month gap isn't as easy as I thought it would be, and I'm unsure on a lot of things I've written (I have a feeling I've gone against the lore in here somewhere).

After the council was dismissed, the various members of the Fellowship went their separate ways for the rest of the day. Talion and Eltariel watched each group leave the meeting place, until it was just the two of them. As soon as the One Ring was out of sight, Talion felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders, and he took a deep, steadying breath that didn't go unnoticed by Eltariel.

"The One Ring. What… Happened?" she asked, worry evident in her voice. "The way you looked at it…"

"I… I'm not completely sure, but…" He brought the now normal looking New Ring into view, considering it carefully. "As soon as I laid eyes on the One Ring, I saw something. The New Ring started glowing, burning, and…" He paused, the images flashing through his mind again, and he couldn't help the stab of worry in his gut at the memory of an injured Celebrimbor.

"What did you see?"

"Celebrimbor," he told her after a moment. "And Sauron. They looked as if they'd been fighting."

"How is that possible? How could you see them when they're halfway across Middle-Earth?" Talion thought on the question himself, and it wasn't long before he came up with an answer.

"I do not know for sure… But I have a theory." If Talion could see Celebrimbor because their souls were bonded within the New Ring, did that mean the New Ring was reacting to the part of Sauron's soul that resided in the One Ring? "And I hope that I am wrong."

Without explaining further, Talion turned to walk back up the path everyone had taken to get to the meeting place, dropping the New Ring back out of sight. Eltariel followed soon after, and the two wandered Rivendell in silence for a while, passing the various groups from the council as they did. The men of Gondor seemed reluctant to let Boromir go, but accepted that there was nothing they could do about the decision. The same seemed to be true of the Mirkwood elves, who were not so keen to see their prince set off on yet another long, dangerous adventure, but wished him nothing less than the best. The dwarves seemed the least worried of the groups, instead making Gimli promise to regale them with plenty of tales of battles and far off lands when he returned to them safely, though Talion was sure they were saying that, in part, to hide their concern. The hobbits were the most worried, Sam and Frodo quietly discussing the many possible happenings of the journey ahead while Merry was in deep conversation with Pippin, whose earlier smile and humor disappeared more and more the longer the two spoke.

"I don't think they've realized just what it is they've volunteered to do," Eltariel told him sadly, watching them for a few moments. "I don't think they can even fathom…"

"I know… But do any of us truly understand what we've agreed to? There's no telling what we'll encounter on our way to Mordor. Orcs and the Nazgul most definitely, of course, but there will be more than just physical enemies that threaten us. And… There's no telling what kind of chaos three Rings of Power can create."

"But the New Ring hasn't—

"It reacts whenever the One Ring is in my sights. I don't know if that was a one time occurrence, but I'm willing to bet it wasn't. I only hope it won't cause any tension between Frodo and myself." The poor hobbit had already been through enough already. He didn't need to worry about a potentially dangerous Talion too.

"And Isildur's Ring? Now that it is close to the One Ring, do you worry?" Talion sighed, but nodded.

"Yes. It's bad enough that I hear the Witch King in my head whenever the New Ring's pull is too great, but to hear Sauron as well…" He trailed off and shook his head, trying not to dwell on it. They continued walking, surrounded by wildlife and greenery when next they spoke.

"I'm concerned about our companions," Eltariel admitted after much thought, drawing a curious glance from Talion.

"Oh?"

"It is clear that Gimli and Boromir do not trust you, and though Mithrandir and Legolas have their doubts, they will come around eventually. I just have a feeling that neither Gimli nor Boromir would mind seeing you dead." Talion observed her expression, his own softening at just how truly worried she looked.

"But it's not just that, is it?" he asked quietly. She shook her head, eyes cast downward.

"No. We all saw you at the council meeting. Even now your dark visage remains. If we do this, you'll have to fight the influence of both Isildur's Ring and the One Ring, and while I know you're strong…" She looked to him then, a determined, emotional fire in her eyes. "I will not see you come to harm because of what the One Ring inevitably does to everyone who comes in contact with it, and if I must, I will fight our companions." Talion stopped in his tracks, stunned at Eltariel's sudden declaration.

"Where is this coming from?" he asked her. She stopped next to him, expression conflicted, seeming to not know herself.

"When you said that none of us truly understood what we agreed to do, you were right. We don't know what to expect, but what I do know is that there are those who would strike you down because you look like the enemy, even though you are anything but."

"They are afraid," Talion told her, "Of what I might do, that I could turn on them. They fear what they do not understand. I know they may never see me as an ally, and… I've… accepted the fact." She looked to him then, more determined than he'd ever seen her before, unsure of where her words and feelings were coming from but not intending to stifle them.

"But you shouldn't have to! They fear you, they claim to hate you, because they don't know who you are, but I do! You are a good man, a valiant man, who's given up everything so that the very people who fear you, who seek to kill you, can live in a world without a great evil who threatens everything they hold dear. We may not like each other, but I will **not **see you fall, to them or the influence of the Rings." It was when they both heard those words leave her mouth that they understood. "I will not see you fall," she repeated, quieter this time, as she looked away.

"Eltariel…" Talion was truly at a loss of words.

"Even if it means…" She trailed off, suddenly becoming lost in thought, seeming to relive something that truly and deeply pained her. It wasn't until Talion hesitantly laid a hand on her shoulder that she met his eyes, his **blue** eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered sincerely. "I… To hear you say such things—

"There is nothing to thank me for," she replied after a moment. "Celebrimbor is not the only person who believes in you." He was shocked by the statement, and Eltariel managed a small smile. "Who else could call you away from the waking world, except the one whose soul is bound to yours? And who else could you be thinking about every time you hold the New Ring when you think I'm not looking?" Talion scoffed, but didn't deny the statements.

"Alright, I think you've made your point," he replied, failing to hold back a small smile of his own. He looked to the sky and the slowly setting sun. "Perhaps we should return, before night falls."

"Perhaps," Eltariel agreed, leading the way back into the city, a comfortable silence settling between the two. For the first time since they'd met, Talion felt as if he could finally begin to see beyond who Eltariel seemed to be in Mordor. She cared, even if she tried not to show it all the time. The thought gave him comfort as they joined the others for dinner in the Hall of Fire that night.

XxX

"What do you mean we have to wait?" an irked Boromir asked the next day. Elrond and Gandalf had called the members of the Fellowship to discuss their next course of action, and it seemed a few of them weren't very happy with what they'd been told. They were all gathered on one of the balconies of the Last Homely House, with a view of waterfalls roaring in one direction and the quiet city in another.

"Frodo has barely been awake for an entire day, and though his injury has been healed, its effects have not. To leave now would put his life in danger," Elrond began.

"And I'm sure you'll want to know that the paths you choose to take are safe. Unless you'd like to risk the Nazgul or a band of orcs catching you out in the open?" Gandalf asked. Boromir fell silent at that.

"Let them come. We will be ready for them," Gimli declared. Eltariel, Aragorn, and Talion shared the same look of exasperation.

"We are sending out various groups to scout the areas ahead. We want to ensure your safety upon your departure, and it will give us an idea of the enemy's movements. And I am sure you are all weary from your travels. Take this time to rest, and prepare yourselves for the perilous journey ahead of you." The hobbits looked the most relieved of the group, glad that they would not be made to set out immediately. Legolas and Aragorn seemed to be in agreement with Elrond and Gandalf, but Boromir and Gimli didn't look pleased with the news. A majority of the Fellowship left after a few questions, Gimli glaring at Talion and Eltariel as he went and Boromir fixing them with an unreadable look as he passed. Aragorn stayed behind, asking Elrond if he could join one of the scouting parties, while Talion and Eltariel directed their questions to Gandalf.

"How long will the scouts be gone?" Talion asked.

"It is hard to say. Some of our scouts will be meeting with the Rangers to cover more ground, and some will go as far as the Mirkwood and Lothlorien. Should things go well, and without much delay, perhaps one or two months."

"_Months?_ But…"

"Are you so eager to leave, Talion?" Gandalf asked. Talion shook his head after a moment.

"No. It's just… Much can happen in such a span of time, and there is the question of what to do until we can depart."

"Enjoy the reprieve while it is available," Gandalf answered simply. "Rivendell is a beautiful place. There is much to be seen and learned from here, and I'm sure you will have no problems finding any information you seek," he answered, with yet another gleam in his eye that had Talion bursting to know just how the wizard seemed to know _**everything**_.

"I… shall keep that in mind." Eltariel smirked at Talion's expression before addressing Gandalf with seriousness.

"Do you think they'll encounter any immediate threats?"

"Again, it is hard to say. There have been no reports of orcs or enemies in the surrounding areas since my arrival here, and the Ford has swept the Nazgul away. No doubt, they won't be eager to meet such a magically powerful foe as Lord Elrond. I do not believe so, but Talion is right in saying that much can happen in a month, or two. We can only hope for the best."

XxX

"… And what do you think of—" Bilbo cut himself off as he took in Talion's distracted expression. The man wasn't listening to a word he was saying, too lost in thought to respond. The two had been working on a chapter for _There and Back Again_ in Bilbo's room, Bilbo asking for Talion's input on how best to pace and separate certain parts of his journey. He had just been about to ask the best way to organize his first time using the One Ring during an escape of a small goblin army, sighing with a sad smile on his face. It was then that a knock on the door caught his attention, an elf dropping off two trays of lunch for them. Bilbo accepted the food with a grateful nod. Examining one of the trays, he gathered a forkful of the different foods and unceremoniously fed it to Talion, who startled at the action.

"Mmph?" he asked around the forkful of food, taking the fork from Bilbo. After he finished chewing, he asked rather sheepishly, "I did it again, didn't I?"

"Yes, but I don't blame you. If **I** were in your position, knowing what you know and being who you are… How are you, Talion?" Talion shrugged.

"I… I could be better," he admitted. "The Council is still fresh in my mind," he added. Though it had been a little over a week since the Council of Elrond, it wasn't far from the forefront of anyone's mind. Bilbo hummed in acknowledgement.

"So too is it in mine. I think it's taken its toll on all of us, you more than most, it seems." He brought the other tray over to Talion, who looked at the food quizzically before Bilbo told him, "Eat. How long has it been since your last meal?" Talion thought about it.

"A few days?" he estimated. Bilbo huffed.

"And I suppose you haven't had any sleep in that time either?" Talion shook his head, and Bilbo sighed fondly. "Your body may no longer need such things, but I think they're good for you. You brood less when you're eating or sleeping." Talion raised an amused eyebrow at him.

"Brood?"

"Yes, _brood._ Your mind, much like mine, never stops working. There is always something to dwell on, something to understand or unravel. Eat, take a nap, and I will wake you when it's time for dinner." Talion had half a mind to ask Bilbo to instead restart the tale from his book he was working on before, but ultimately decided against it. The hobbit was always looking out for him in some way, and always with such sincerity and worry for his well being.

"Of course," he replied gratefully, digging into the food on his tray as Bilbo returned to his book, the scraping of a fork and the scratching of a quill filling the room.

XxX

" …which is what has led us to begin sailing to Valinor," Elrond finished. Talion sat, speechless, across from Elrond in Rivendell's library, where the elven leader could usually be found. He didn't know why, but Elrond, as busy as he was, had no problem answering Talion's questions or taking the time to fill him in on things. For most of the morning, after breakfast and a short walk outside, Elrond had told Talion of the many happening throughout Middle-Earth since Talion's last days outside of Mordor. He told of relations between elves, dwarves, and men, as well as changes in leadership, significant losses, and major events that had affected each group. He never really concerned himself with the world outside of Gondor too much before… Everything, but to hear about the hardships and wonders of distant lands…

"That… Is a lot," Talion replied as the information sunk in. Elrond smiled.

"You did ask," he told him. Talion smiled back.

"That I did." It was then that he frowned, Gandalf's words coming to mind. Elrond didn't miss the change in his expression.

"What is it that troubles you?"

"Gandalf," he replied simply. "He said I wouldn't have any problems obtaining information, that I could have all of my questions answered…" He let out a quiet laugh. "And yet I do not know what to ask first. I suppose…" As much as he disliked dwelling on the Council, there was one thing that refused to leave his mind. He pulled the New Ring into view with a sigh. "When I first laid eyes on the One Ring, the New Ring sprang to life. As I looked down upon it, I saw Sauron and Celebrimbor, locked in battle. I… I could feel the One Ring's pull, but the New Ring fought against it, breaking its hold over me. What if there is a way to break Sauron's influence over the Ring?"

"His influence… Similar to Celebrimbor's influence over the New Ring?"

"Yes, exactly! If we were to destroy, or even weaken, Sauron's presence within the One Ring, would that then stop the Ring's warping of the bearer's mind? Could it, perhaps, defeat Sauron once and for all without the need to travel to Mordor?" Elrond considered the thought, hoping he was understanding Talion correctly.

"Assuming you had a way to reach the part of Sauron's soul within the One Ring, would you be able to defeat him? And if you did, how would you know that his presence within the One Ring is completely gone? Is it even possible to banish his presence from the One Ring without destroying the Ring itself? I wish I had an answer for you, Talion, but you ask me something only Sauron himself might know." Talion sighed, but wasn't surprised.

"I suppose I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I just… The Fellowship has brought many concerns to my mind, and I've had nothing but plenty of time to think about them. I mostly worry for Frodo, and Boromir."

"Because of the One Ring," Elrond finished.

"Yes. If there is any way to protect them from the Ring's influence, I would see it done." Talion watched the small changes in Elrond's expression as he considered the situation, the slight deepening in the furrow of his brow, the spark in his eye as an idea came to him. Though he had not known the elf lord long, Talion would miss his guidance once the Fellowship left Rivendell.

"Perhaps Celebrimbor would know. He crafted the Rings of Power, and though the One Ring was not his creation, I'm sure his insight would be much more valuable than mine." Talion just resisted the urge to put his face in his hands. Why didn't he realize that sooner? Elrond must have known what he was thinking, catching Talion's attention with a short laugh. "You have had much on your mind as of late, Talion." Talion shook his head.

"Still… I should have…" He was about to take his leave, preparing to stand when Gandalf's words returned to his mind once more. He blushed, and was met with a curious raised eyebrow from Elrond. "There's one more thing I'd like to ask you," he told him, hoping he wouldn't die of embarrassment as he tried to get the question out. Elrond simply gave him a sad smile as he answered it.

XxX

For the past few weeks, Talion had kept himself busy since his last conversation with Elrond. He'd gotten into the habit of always having something to do, whether that be training, spending time with those who trusted him, or simply wandering around Rivendell. Anything to take his mind off of the journey that loomed ahead was a good thing at the moment. Though he had at first done a fairly decent job of not running into the more distrusting members of the Fellowship, he knew there were bound to be moments when that couldn't be helped.

Any encounter with Gimli tended to include glares and half murmured insults and threats in Khuzdul. The dwarves in general seemed to despise his presence, but Gimli was the most vocal of the group on the matter. "I don't care who trusts him. The only thing I trust is that my axe will do its job when the time comes," Talion overheard one evening as he entered the Hall of Fire. One of Gimli's companions nudged him, pointing in Talion's direction with a concerned expression. Gimli merely sneered, and Talion met his glare with a look of indifference, taking a seat next to Eltariel, who followed Talion's gaze with a frown.

The times he and Boromir had found themselves in the same room had been… Strange to say the least. Talion couldn't quite understand Boromir's view towards him, even though his often cold words made it clear that he no longer trusted him. At times there were burning glances towards Isildur's Ring, and Talion could see the gears turning in his head, what about he had no idea. At others… There were contemplative, almost awed looks that made Talion re-evaluate just what Boromir might think of him.

Legolas was neither hostile towards him like Gimli was, nor cold like Boromir, and while he didn't fully trust Talion, he was civil towards him. The two had held conversations at meals, and had even done some training together. Talion appreciated the fact that Legolas had not been as quick to judge as the others had and told the elf as much after a particularly grueling sparring session. Legolas replied, "I do not find it right to condemn someone based on appearance alone. If those that I would entrust my life to consider you an ally, then so do I… And I hope, in time, that I won't have to change my mind."

In contrast to the other three, things between he and Aragorn were… Not quite strained, but not quite normal either. Since the reveal by Legolas at the Council, it finally dawned on Talion why Aragorn had acted so strangely around Isildur's Ring. He hadn't had much of a chance to speak with Aragorn before he left with Elladan and Elrohir on one of the scouting parties, their brief goodbye a bit awkward and uncomfortable. That day, the two had been enjoying one of the warmer afternoons of the quickly chilling season, back where their late night conversation took place. Aragorn had gone there upon his return a few hours prior, nodding to Talion in greeting. They were sitting up against opposite sides of a tall, thick tree, facing away from the city and towards the waterfalls. "I want to apologize, Talion." Aragorn told him. It was the first time either of them had spoken to the other all afternoon.

"What for?" Talion asked. He heard shuffling, turning to see Aragorn now sat facing him, an almost guilty expression on his face.

"Ever since the Council, things have felt… Different between us, and I know I am the cause." Talion thought about his next words carefully.

"Knowing your true name has not changed how I view you, Aragorn, but…"

" …But?"

"You were tempted that day, weren't you?" he finally asked, not knowing how else to pose the question. "That's why you recoiled from the Ring. It called to you." Aragorn averted his gaze.

"Yes," he admitted. A few moments passed before Talion, with a risky idea in mind, raised the hand that wore Isildur's Ring and held it out to Aragorn, who looked at it with a swirling mix of too many emotions to name. "What are you doing?"

"What if I said I was offering you Isildur's Ring, right here, right now? Are you going to take it?" It took Aragorn a moment to realize he had taken Talion's hand in his, examining the Ring up close as whispers of a foreign yet familiar voice filled his ears. The whispers urged him to take the Ring, that it was his birthright, that it was being gifted to him at this very moment, that the Ring could ensure that nothing stood in the Fellowship's way as they travelled to Mordor. He could even, for a brief moment, see an image of himself as King of Gondor, the Ring sat comfortably on his finger, a symbol of power and pride. He felt a flare of ravenous desire, of anger, even, that the Ring wasn't in his possession, that it had been _stolen_ from him. Despite all of that…

He gently pushed Talion's hand away, confident in his decision, but still reeling from what he'd just experienced. "No," Aragorn answered firmly, meeting Talion's gaze again. He could hear the empty promises and false dreams being whispered to him, but knew he neither wanted nor needed **anything** the Ring had to offer. Talion smiled knowingly, satisfied, confusing Aragorn further. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't take it, and I wanted you to know that as well. I didn't want us to leave here with the thought of, 'What if I tried to take it?' in the back of your mind."

"I…" He couldn't deny the weight lifted from his shoulders after he had said no. "I suppose that's one way to accomplish that… You have very unorthodox methods, my friend, but I am glad. You approach things in ways none of us could ever think of."

"I've… Had to get creative at times," Talion replied with a small smile that Aragorn couldn't help but return.

"I do not doubt that." It was then that A comfortable silence fell between the two again, and they resumed their original positions against opposite sides of the nearby tree, collecting their thoughts. It wouldn't be until the sun showed signs of setting that Aragorn broke the silence again. "What made you change back this time?" he asked suddenly. When he didn't get a response, he explained, "Your features were once again free from darkness after the Council. I never got a chance to ask." Talion didn't answer immediately, replaying the event from weeks prior.

"Eltariel," he responded. "She… She's not the person I thought she was." Talion didn't need to see Aragorn's face to know his thoughts on her. He wasn't sure what Aragorn had seen in Eltariel's eyes upon their first meeting, but it had made him wary of her.

"And this is a good thing?" he asked slowly, not quite following.

"She showed me that there is more to her than what she lets others see. She… Has faith in me, when I don't even have much faith in myself."

"I… Do not wish to speak ill of your friend, Talion, but I don't trust her." And was that what they were now? Friends? There was noticeably less tension between the two since Eltariel's confession; that much was true, and they had gotten along fairly well since their time in Rivendell. How long had it been, since he'd had a true friend? Before Mordor, perhaps?

"I don't blame you. She isn't the easiest person to get along with, and there have been times when she has seemed to me more of an enemy than an ally—

"It's not that," Aragorn told him, trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts. "She hides her true self behind an image of what others have wanted her to be to appear unbreakable, to hide what she sees as weaknesses. Eltariel has pretended to be someone she is not for so long that she has forgotten who she is. I do not trust her because she doesn't even trust herself… And it seems that her armor only cracks around you." Talion didn't know what to say to that. He had always thought Eltariel was the way she was, that recent events had been a result of their positively changing relationship…

"So are you saying I shouldn't trust her?" he asked after a few minutes of silent thought. Aragorn sighed, his next statement remaining in the back of Talion's mind for some time afterwards.

"No. I'm saying that you may be the only person who can save her from herself."

XxX

Two months had passed since the Council of Elrond had taken place, and it was finally time for the Fellowship to depart from Rivendell. Many people gathered to see them off, some from the doors of their homes, and others near the gates of the city. It was easy to feel the sadness and uncertainty in the air, accompanied by somber and troubled expressions. The Fellowship stood together just in front of the gates and across from Elrond, who began to address the crowd.

"The Ring-bearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom. And you who travel with him. No oath or bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell, and hold to your purpose… May the blessings of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you." He gestured respectfully towards the group, bowing his head and briefly extending the arm that held a hand over his heart. Legolas, Aragor, Eltariel, and Talion returned the gesture, a confused Boromir looking between them before Gandalf spoke.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer," he told Frodo, who took one more, perhaps his last, look at Rivendell before turning and making his way towards the gate. Talion couldn't help but do the same as the rest of the Fellowship went to follow, meeting Elrond's concerned, yet hopeful gaze with a nod. He watched the interaction between Arwen and Aragorn, feeling his heart ache at their separation, having been (accidentally) witness to the most beautiful act of love he'd ever seen not too long ago. He could only pull his gaze away when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see Eltariel waiting for him, expression conflicted yet understanding. They followed Aragorn out of the city, catching up to the rest of the Fellowship, each step bringing them closer to both their goal and certain peril.

Closing A/N: If any lore experts would like to answer Talion's question to Elrond, please do, because I'm just as unsure as he is and I'm the one who threw the idea out there! Ahem. Anyway… I have a feeling that once band camp starts, I won't really have much time to write, and your first semester of college isn't something you want to screw up either. I will try to make time to write, but I can't promise updates won't take several months.


	8. Hope Dwindles

Chapter Eight: Hope Dwindles

A/N: I'm baaaaack! College is a lot. I never thought I'd get tired of music until **10 of my 11 classes ended up being in music!** It's gotten better, but man, am I burned out. The semester is winding down a bit, though, so I've taken my first free weekend since… August(?) to finish this chapter. The Fellowship have set out from Rivendell and Saruman and Moria attempt to kill any resolve and hope they have, and they do a pretty decent job of it, to be honest. Quenya and other Elvish translations are a little spotty in this one, so please feel free to correct them if they need correcting. And apologies if the chapter feels a bit disjointed. I started with the middle, then wrote the beginning, then the end, all at different points in time. Hopefully it all flows together okay. Anyway, let us pick up where we left off!

For many days the Fellowship traveled along the foothills of the Misty Mountains. Very few words were spoken for some time, apart from the occasional comment from Pippin or quiet musings from Gandalf, Aragorn, or Legolas. The tension from Rivendell remained, worry, unease, and distrust palpable in the air. Despite this, Talion couldn't help but admire the view around him one early afternoon. Rolling green hills and snow capped mountains that cut through the swirling clouds above them were a beautiful and peaceful sight to behold. He made his thoughts known aloud, the first words he'd spoken since their departure from Rivendell. Of all the sights he'd seen in recent-ish memory Nurnen was probably the most beautiful (of course), but he'd grown accustomed to the sight after a couple of decades. Perhaps he'd spent far too long in Mordor, or maybe the Ring was finally making him completely lose his mind, but he felt it was truly a sight to behold.

"Perhaps we should admire them for a bit longer then," Aragorn replied. "It seems like as good a time as any to rest." Most of the rest of the Fellowship responded positively, though Boromir looked to Talion with an exasperated, yet almost pitying expression on his face. He and Gimli still didn't trust nor like Talion. Though Gimli's threats of bodily harm under his breath had stopped some time ago, he still directed glares Talion's way whenever their gazes would meet. Boromir continued to confuse Talion. He was often caught staring, sometimes in what was undeniably a burning jealousy, and others in a strange mix of concern and curiosity. He tried to push his slowly growing worry to the back of his mind to stay focused on the task at hand, but Boromir didn't make it easy.

Pippin, however, through lucky timing or some other strange, mystical power that Talion didn't know he had, managed to completely change Boromir's mood with a single question. As Sam had started a fire to prepare lunch, Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli surveying their surroundings from the rocky cliff they'd set up camp on, Pippin caught Aragorn and Boromir's attention.

"I know there'll be Black Riders and creatures on our way to Mordor, so will you teach me how to fight?" The question caught both men and a bewildered Merry off guard. Pippin caught Merry's expression, replying, "Well someone has to defend you when we're surrounded by the enemy."

"Someone'll have to defend **me?**" Merry questioned incredulously, eyebrow raised and eyes glimmering at the challenge. "Well if you're learning to fight, then so am I! We'll see who needs defending then, won't we?" Boromir looked to Aragorn in excitement. As ill-tempered as he'd been for much of the beginning of the journey, he absolutely adored the hobbits, and probably couldn't say no if he tried.

"What do you think, Aragorn? Shall we train two brave warriors for the challenges ahead?" he asked with a genuine smile that instantly brightened the atmosphere. Aragorn, smiling as well, looked between the three with a fond shake of his head.

"I don't see why not. Where shall we start?" Talion sat a little ways away, far enough to not be intrusive, but close enough to see and hear most of what was going on. Eltariel joined him, watching in amusement as Merry and Pippin attempted to imitate Boromir and Aragorn, who were showing them the proper stances for fighting.

"They could still be in Rivendell, or back in the Shire, away from all of this, and yet they chose to continue traveling. And now this." She gestured to the four as Pippin took the first swing of his sword, stumbling forward from the force he'd put into it and drawing laughs out of everyone watching.

"I know," Talion told her, serious again after a moment, understanding her view. "But they made their choice. They would not leave Frodo to face this journey alone." Eltariel didn't reply. Talion looked to her after a while to find her lost in though, gaze far away, disheartened. He tried not to wonder what was going through her mind that would put her in such a state.

Several more days went by much the same way, with the Fellowship stopping and meals and training sessions proceeding. On one particular day, Merry and Pippin took turns against Boromir doing basic combos and strikes, with Aragorn observing and commenting as they went. They had made splendid progress in the short time, and Eltariel and Legolas had discussed perhaps teaching the two other skills, proper scouting, perhaps, or archery if they were feeling particularly daring one day. As Merry and Pippin tackled Boromir, and then Aragorn, to the ground with a bit of clever teamwork, the four collapsing into a pile in a fit of laughter, the almost joyful mood vanished as Legolas rushed to the edge of the cliff they were camped out on, squinting into the distance. This caught everyone's attention, Eltariel making her way to his side not long after. A dark mass had appeared in the skies.

"What is that?" Sam asked. Gimli thought nothing of it, but quickly changed his tune as it made its way towards them.

"Its moving fast, against the wind," Boromir noted, the smile from earlier falling from his face as concern settled in. Talion watched Eltariel's eyes widen as she realized what they were seeing.

"Spies of the enemy!" she shouted to the group.

"Hide! Take cover!" Aragorn instructed. They all rushed behind the large rock formations next to the camp, extinguishing the fire and snatching belongings as they dove out of sight. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as a swarm of shrieking birds flew over the area, leaving as quickly as they came. When they were barely visible, everyone got to their feet, a bit shaken.

"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf told them. "The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." They all looked to the high mountain peak behind them, no doubt bitterly cold and snowy.

"How long?" Talion asked, looking to the hobbits in concern. While he knew that Eltariel, Legolas, and he himself wouldn't feel much of the temperature's effects, he didn't like the idea of the hobbits, or anyone else, freezing to death.

"It is hard to say. Should the snow hold until we have passed, not long at all," Gandalf replied, though he didn't sound as confident as he probably wanted to. Talion had a feeling the journey wouldn't go too well.

XxX

The trek to the Pass was long and arduous, and though the vast white blanket of snow met with soft blue skies and slowly swirling clouds that seemed almost within reach was a quiet and serene scene, the thinning air and steadily dropping temperatures were not kind to the Fellowship. He knew Aragorn, Gandalf, and Boromir were cold, but they didn't show it. Gimli, Legolas, and Eltariel didn't feel most of the cold, and he himself couldn't feel much of anything. The hobbits, however, were shivering, and Frodo, at one point, found himself tumbling down the slope they were currently climbing, caught by a concerned Aragorn before he could go too far, now covered in snow. Everyone stopped in concern.

"Are you alright?" Talion asked him, checking him over. Frodo nodded, but his tired expression quickly morphed into one of panic as he looked up. Talion and Aragorn followed his gaze, eyes landing on Boromir holding the chain that held the One Ring, which glimmered in the sunlight. Talion felt the New Ring burn, sucking in a harsh breath as a sense of _take_ and _mine_ briefly flared within him, squeezing Frodo's shoulder a bit tightly as he and Aragorn helped him to his feet.

"Boromir," Aragorn called, but Boromir was entranced, with eyes only for the One Ring. The wind seemed to blow harsher then, the skies just a touch darker.

" 'Tis a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt… for so small a thing…" His other hand came up to examine the Ring closer. "Such a little thing…"

"Boromir!" Aragorn shouted with authority, breaking the spell and snapping both Boromir and Talion back to their senses. "Give the Ring to Frodo," he told him in a softer tone. Boromir looked between Frodo and the One Ring in confusion before approaching them, holding it out rather reluctantly.

"As you wish," he replied. He met Aragorn's stare with false bravado. "I care not." Frodo snatched the Ring back with urgency, quickly securing it back around his neck and out of sight. Talion let out a barely audible sigh of relief, and the Fellowship continued moving. Talion didn't miss, however, Aragorn's hand slowly lowering from his sword handle after the exchange.

The next day was when things well and truly took a turn for the worse. Icy gusts whipped heaps and heaps of snow upon them, so much so that Boromir and Gandalf had to make a path for the rest of the Fellowship to walk through as they scaled the side of the mountain. Aragorn and Talion carried the hobbits, not wanting to risk them being buried in snow banks taller than they were. Legolas and Eltariel hopped upon the non tunneled snow ahead, twin worried expressions on their faces.

"There is a fell voice in the air," Legolas called back to them.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf shouted as a loud _BOOM!_ thundered overhead, sending huge chunks of rocks and ice cascading dangerously close to them.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must head back!" Aragorn shouted in alarm.

"No!" Gandalf shouted back. Talion looked to him in shock. Did he want them to risk dying here when there were other, safer paths they could take? It was then that Gandalf shouted back at Saruman in an ancient language without fear, in what Talion loosely understood as, "We are here." Another _BOOM!_ sounded, this time bringing several feet of snow crashing down on top of everyone. Saruman's voice went silent then, only the howling of the wind audible. The side of the mountain was motionless for several seconds, before one by one members of the Fellowship dug themselves out of the snow. Talion looked for Eltariel, spotting her a few feet away, brushing snow out from under her hood. His gaze then swept the area, and he was relieved to see everyone looking mostly unharmed. He heard Boromir suggest they head for the Gap of Rohan before Aragorn pointed out that they would be traveling too close to Isengard. Gimli suggested Moria, to which Gandalf froze, a far off look in his eyes. What did he know that they didn't?

"Gandalf?" Talion asked over the wind, startling him from his trance. Gandalf looked to him and then to Frodo.

"Let the Ring-bearer decide." All eyes fell on Frodo then, who was terrified to be tasked with making such a decision. He looked to Sam, then to the other hobbits, who were just as lost and uncertain as he was.

"We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the hobbits!" Boromir shouted.

Frodo took a few shaky, uneven breaths before replying, "We will go through the Mines." Gandalf met his terrified expression with one of resignation.

"So be it. Let us turn back!"

XxX

Talion couldn't help the feeling of warmth mixed with longing and a strange unease that bubbled in his chest the closer the Fellowship got to Moria. After the disastrous journey to the Caradhras Pass, he hoped that passage there would be less eventful. He watched Gandalf pull a fearful and tired looking Frodo to the side, whispering too low to hear from where he was, before Gimli uttered, awestruck, "The Walls of Moria." The feelings in his chest intensified as the Fellowship drew near, and while everyone else seemed to be searching for an entrance, Talion simply ran his fingers reverently over the stone, ancient whispers echoing in the air, a heartbroken look in his eyes that drew occasional stares from their companions. Eltariel watched him sadly, knowing what was on his mind.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli told the group as they continued their search. Trees and other vegetation surrounded the area, a small, yet deep body of water separated by a shore mere feet from the Doors.

"Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf remarked.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Leglas asked with a frown, much to Gimli's annoyance. Before a dispute could start between the two, Talion saw Gandalf dust off a carving in a large smooth area of stone, looking towards the moon, which lit the doors in a soft glowing bright blue. Many of the Fellowship stared in wonder at the beautiful writings, while Talion and Eltariel made their way to Gandalf's side. Without knowing what possessed him to do so, Talion read the door's inscription, voice echoing throughout the area with an unknown power, fingers gently tracing the glowing ithildin.

"_Ennyn Durin Aran Moria. Pedo mellon a minno. Im Narvi hain echant. Celebrimbor o Eregion teithant i thiw hin."_ Many in the Fellowship eyed Talion with surprise at his reading. Gandalf, seemingly unphased, translated.

"The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

"I, Narvi, made them," Eltariel continued.

"Celebrimbor of Eregion drew these signs," Talion finished softly, voice shaking slightly at the end. Aragorn heard the tremble and caught his eye in concern, but Talion shook his head dismissively.

"What do you suppose that means?" a confused Pippin asked.

"Well, it's quite simple. If you are a friend you speak the password, and the doors will open," Gandalf explained rather quickly, perhaps a bit excitedly, as he turned towards the doors again, shouting confidently in Elvish. The Fellowship held their breath in anticipation, deflating slightly when nothing happened after a few moments. Several more times Gandalf tried, each one a failure. The Fellowship all looked at one another, some in worry and others in exasperation.

"Nothing's happening," Pippin commented after a few minutes, looking to Legolas, who met his gaze before looking back to Gandalf, who was pushing and shoving at the door while murmuring under his breath, in concern.

"So you have no idea how to open them," Boromir stated in annoyance. "Wonderful," he muttered under his breath.

"Give him time," Eltariel told him with a frown. "I don't see you attempting to open the doors."

"I could say the same for you," Boromir replied coldly.

"Boromir. Eltariel," Aragorn interrupted, sensing a fight brewing. "Perhaps now isn't the best time." They looked to him, embarrassed as if scolded by a parent, before glaring at each other one last time, putting distance between themselves. Boromir rejoined the rest of the group while Eltariel made her way over to Gandalf, offering her help. Aragorn watched them go before making his way over to Talion, who seemed lost in thought, a melancholy expression on his face as he leaned against the stone a little ways away from the Doors. "It must be difficult, being here without him." Talion sighed, but nodded.

"It is. I know he would love to see this place again. And I know…" His eyes went wide as an idea occurred to him. "He knows how to open the Doors." He reached for the New Ring, which was glowing with warmth in the same shade of blue as the Doors of Moria, closing his eyes and concentrating, hoping what he was trying worked, one thought in his mind. _Celebrimbor._

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, Talion slowly felt his consciousness slip away, body going slack. His vision went dark, eyes falling shut, and when next he opened them he found himself in the same position, though his surrounding had changed slightly. Vegetation and greenery grew less unkemptly, a clear path to the Doors of Moria now visible, leading away in several directions. He stood, pushing himself away from the stone wall and approaching the Doors, which glowed softly in the moonlight. Again, Talion admired their beauty as he heard quiet footsteps behind him.

"There was a time when Moria and Eregion were allies, when trade and visitation were commonplace between us. Elves and dwarves lived peacefully alongside each other, once. It's a shame that time has changed that." Talion turned around, meeting Celebrimbor's wistful gaze.

"Did you visit Moria often?" Talion asked, walking over to Celebrimbor's side and gently taking his hand.

"Yes. A great craftsman, Narvi, and I were good friends," he replied. A familiar bow materialized in his free hand. "He is the one who crafted Azkar, as a gift, a sign of our friendship." Azkar disappearing from sight, they both walked up to the Doors, stopping just short of them. "It was through our collaboration that these Doors were built, and still stand as they are today." He traced the glowing ithildin and recited, "_Ennyn Durin Aran Moria. Pedo mellon a minno." _

"Speak, friend, and enter, the second phrase reads. Gandalf cannot make sense of it." Celebrimbor huffed in exasperation.

"Gandalf the Grey is wiser than most, but there are some things that do not require a wealth of wisdom to solve. _Pedo mellon a minno._ Speak friend and enter. It is a very straightforward statement." Talion considered his lover's words, confusion giving way to understanding after a few moments.

"Speak friend… Friend… The Elvish word for friend?" Celebrimbor smiled, and nodded.

"A simple and straightforward statement, and yet even the greatest minds can still be baffled by it." He dropped his hand from the Doors, looking to Talion in concern. "Moria is not the civilization it once was. It will have fallen into ruin, and there's no way of knowing just what now dwells within its halls. You and the Fellowship must travel with caution."

"I know. We have barely avoided disaster since we set out from Rivendell, and… Something tells me that there is a great danger near."

"Then you must be prepared for anything." Before Talion could respond, he heard a faint voice, what he thought was someone calling his name. Celebrimbor sighed. "You are needed in the waking world." Talion squeezed his hand, refusing to let it go.

"Must our time together always be so short?" he demanded to know, not willing to part with him just yet.

"Ni mende illume aquet lye, melda," Celebrimbor told him, equally as unwilling to let Talion return. "Never doubt that." As his vision faded once more, he felt a kiss being pressed into his hair, and when his vision returned he found Eltariel shaking him awake.

"Something is amiss," she told him as he stood, a bit disoriented. "There is a creature that lurks near." Talion fixed her with a puzzled expression before a splashing sound drew his gaze to Pippin, who was throwing stones into the water. He watched Aragorn stop him with haste, he and Boromir looking at the now rippling water in concern. Briefly entering the wraith world, Talion saw a large form underwater, slowly making its way to the surface.

Vision returning to normal, he told Eltariel, "Something has awakened."

"Get away from the water!" she shouted to the rest of the Fellowship, shining the Light of Galadriel over the area. Dark tentacles moved almost unseen below dark waves. Aragorn and Boromir drew their swords, Legolas his bow, and Gimli his axe, pushing the hobbits behind them as they backed slowly towards the Doors. Talion and Eltariel joined them, Talion turning to a defeated looking Gandalf.

"The Doors are not asking for anything elaborate. It asks exactly what it says. Speak friend and enter. It does not _address_ us as friend. It asks for the _word_ friend," he explained.

Gandalf suddenly stood, realization lighting up his features, and the two of them uttered at the same time, "_Mellon."_ The Doors of Durin swung open with a scraping of stone, and Gandalf led the way inside, Gimli following ecstatically. As soon as he stepped foot inside, the uneasiness in Talion's chest multiplied tenfold, and he gasped as it momentarily overwhelmed him. Something definitely wasn't right here.

"What is it?" Eltariel whispered. Boromir glanced over his shoulder with a scoff. Talion glared, but chose to ignore him in favor of answering Eltariel.

"Something isn't right here. It's too quiet. There is an air of suffering and death, and…" He couldn't quite put into words the familiar feeling he was getting, but he sensed a great evil lurking deep within Moria. Gimli, oblivious to Talion's worries, chattered on excitedly.

"Soon, master elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, and ripe meat off the bone! This, my friends, is the home of my cousin Balin, and they call it a mine. A mine!" Legolas looked to him in bewilderment, and it was at this point that Gandalf lit his staff, illuminating a truly horrific scene that froze the Fellowship in their tracks. Rotted, cobweb infested corpses and skeletons littered the dingy stone floor, splatters of dried blood and broken weapons leading further into Moria, the air thick with the smell of dust and decay.

"This isn't a mine. It's a tomb," Boromir stated, horrified. The hobbits took a few steps back as they spotted the skeletons at their feet, more than a little startled. Gimli cast his gaze around him, despair flooding his features as he dropped to his knees next to a fallen kinsman, letting out a heart wrenching wail that echoed ominously throughout the hall. Legolas yanked an arrow out of a corpse, scowling as he recognized the handiwork.

"Goblins," he told the group, prompting them to all scan the room for any potential enemies.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir more ordered than suggested. "We never should have come here." Before anyone could comment or protest, Frodo let out a cry of alarm as a tentacle swept him off his feet and began dragging him none too gently outside. Merry and Pippin immediately grabbed ahold of him, Sam hacking away at the tentacle with angry shouts.

"Strider!" he yelled as the rest of the Fellowship followed the sounds of the struggle. As Sam finally cut Frodo free, the monster reared its head with an ear-splitting shriek, grabbing for Frodo again with all of its tentacles. Aragorn, Eltariel, and Boromir slashed at any nearby, Legolas shooting at the farther ones, the hobbits trying to protect Frodo. With force they were knocked down, and Frodo was snatched up. Before he could be taken far, Talion shadow struck the tentacle holding him, Urfael slicing through it cleanly and efficiently. He landed on his feet as Boromir caught Frodo.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf shouted, and the Fellowship quickly followed the order, fending off any final attacks as the creature lashed out at the Doors of Durin, crumbling the stone and caving in the entrance. Darkness swallowed them without the moonlight, heavy, panicked breathing echoing in the hall. It wasn't until Eltariel summoned the Light of Galadriel and Gandalf relit his staff that they could see again.

"Is everyone alright?" Aragorn asked, still catching his breath. He received nods from almost everyone, Frodo still very shaken up.

"We now have but one choice: we must face the long dark of Moria," Gandalf told them, once again leading the way forward. "Be on your guard. There are older, fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." Aragorn, Boromir, and Talion took the rear, behind the hobbits and Gimli, who followed behind Eltariel and Legolas. Everyone was alert, each step cautious, eyes and ears open to any sign of danger. "It will take us several days to reach the other side. Let us hope that our journey goes uninterrupted by anything that dwells here."

"And what are the chances of **that** happening?" Eltariel asked under her breath.

The Fellowship traversed along narrow stone paths, the threat of tumbling into the bottomless darkness below ever present. While the first part of the journey was uneventful, they eventually came across the remains of a mine, Gandalf explaining about the importance and rarity of mithril. At the mention of Bilbo's mithril shirt, Talion watched Frodo glance down at his chest, eyes widening when the value of the shirt was revealed to be more than the value of the entire Shire itself.

The next few days would become a strange blur in his mind as his vision flashed between the dark, endless, ominous tunnels before him and sprawling, lively, warmly lit paths of a Moria long gone. Sometimes, he would see flashes of dwarves doing all sorts of tasks: mining, conversing, training, working. Other times, he might just see the high ceilings, intricately carved columns and walls, and massive halls that must have been an everyday sight to the dwarves of the past, his footsteps the only clear noise to greet his ears. Other sounds were warped and distant when this happened, and Talion, more than once, found himself under the concerned or wary gazes of several members of the Fellowship when his senses returned to normal.

After a few exhausting, tense days of travel, the Fellowship eventually came across a steep set of stairs, three doorways greeting them at the top. Gandalf looked between them in confusion and concern. "I have no memory of this place," he told them. They decided to stop for the moment, and Talion watched as everyone took a seat gratefully.

"_You_ may not be very tired, but some of us appreciate the rest," Eltariel told him at his surprised expression, though not maliciously so. He joined her on the ground, looking around at the Fellowship. Gimli grieved still for those who had lost their lives, and for the state of the once great city. Merry, Pippin, and Sam looked at their surroundings curiously, but warily. Boromir examined his blade, making an effort to keep the unease out of his expression as he did so. Aragorn and Legolas were in hushed conversation, as were Frodo and Gandalf.

"It's not that," he replied with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes and trying to blink away visions of the past. "As we've travelled, I've been seeing things, memories."

"Celebrimbor's?"

"Of Moria in all of its glory," he confirmed. "It was warm, full of life, grand, _beautiful._ Words cannot do these halls justice. When we stopped…"

"You were greeted by this _lovely _dark and abandoned sight. I suppose that would be jarring… Do you know the way forward?" Talion glanced between the doorways for a few moments before shaking his head.

"Nothing comes to mind."

"Oh! It's that way," Gandalf suddenly piped up, drawing everyone's attention as he stood and broke away from Frodo. Talion and Eltariel exchanged a sceptical look as they all got back to their feet, continuing on.

XxX

It wouldn't be much longer until the Fellowship found themselves in a massive, open hall with rows upon rows of intricately designed columns as far as the eye could see. Talion glanced around, vision briefly flashing to a warmly lit hall. At Gandalf's shout, his gaze snapped to Gimli, who had sprinted ahead to a dimly lit room. Everyone quickly followed, watching Gimli crumple to his knees, head bowed, leaning on his axe as he wept. A small army of dwarf corpses littered the room, all surrounding a stone tomb lit by natural light filtering in from above ground. Gandalf read the inscription on it aloud.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It's as I feared." Gimli continued to weep, until Gandalf's eyes fell upon a dust covered tome clutched in the hands of a skeleton. Handing his staff and hat off to Pippin, he plucked it from its grasp, brushing it off and blowing dust out of its pages, skimming through it.

"We cannot linger here," Legolas whispered to Aragorn, sharing Talion's unease. "It isn't safe."

"No part of Moria is safe now, though I agree. We should keep moving," Talion told him. "I suppose Gandalf is trying to find out what has happened here." Legolas met his gaze with a nod of understanding, but remained wary. They all listened to Gandalf as he recounted the last few pages written in the book. He spoke of the dwarves barricading themselves against the enemy, of hearing thundering drums as they approached, of having no escape, the hopelessness of the words seemingly bleeding through the pages and into the air, casting a dark feeling in the room. Pippin backed away all the while, not stopping until he bumped into an armor-clad skeleton, which tumbled down into the well it laid upon. He flinched as each crash reverberated sharply through the otherwise silent area. An ominous silence followed, and Pippin wore a sheepish and terrified look on his face. The Fellowship held their breath for a few moments after, and Gandalf rounded on Pippin with a scowl, about to reprimand him when what sounded like a drumbeat stopped him dead in his tracks. Everyone froze, listening closely. Another, then another, sounded.

"Frodo!" Sam exclaimed in a panic, the now blue glowing Sting catching his eye as cackling cries met their ears. That could only mean one thing.

"Orcs!" Eltariel confirmed. Boromir rushed to the door, peering around the corner before quickly snatching his head back, narrowly avoiding being impaled by two black, tainted arrows.

"Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn told the hobbits, who quickly followed the orders. He went to assist Boromir with closing and barring the door before everyone closed ranks around Balin's tomb, weapons drawn and raised for a fight.

"They have a cave troll," Boromir remarked with annoyance, shield and sword gleaming in the dim light. He stood next to Aragorn and Legolas, who had bows aimed at the doors. Gimli stood atop Balin's tomb with his axe in hand. Gandalf, Eltariel, and Talion stood in front of the hobbits, their swords drawn. The doors shook and cracked from the force of their enemies before crumbling inward completely, one of them blasted off its hinges as orcs came spilling into the room with enraged shrieks. Aragorn and Legolas unleashed a volley of arrows, felling the first few. With battle cries, the Fellowship charged, hacking and slashing their way through what seemed, in the moment, to be an endless supply of orcs. The hobbits banded together, Aragorn and Boromir fighting closely together, as were Legolas and Eltariel. Gandalf, Gimli, and Talion fought separately, making sure the others groups weren't overwhelmed. The tide of the battle shifted as a roar shook the room, a cave troll, easily several times bigger than everyone in the Fellowship, smashing its way through the door wielding a large mace.

The room descended into even more chaos as Aragorn and Boromir took hard blows as they distracted the troll, who had its sights set on a disoriented Sam. A small blast shook the ground as a group of orcs became frozen solid, Talion and Gimli smashing their way through them as they crossed to opposite sides of the room. Eltariel beheaded several orcs coming too close to Legolas, blasting others nearby with precise beams of light that dropped them where they stood. Each member of the Fellowship, save Gandalf got in attacks against the cave troll, whether that be well placed arrows, toppling it over using the long chain wrapped around its neck, or sword strikes. Each time the cave troll shook the attacks off, though its movements were beginning to slow.

There were several moments, in the midst of battle, that one of them found themselves on the brink of death before another Fellowship member came to their aid. A few well timed arrows from Legolas sent the cave troll stumbling backwards from an unaware Gimli, a light blast from Eltariel killing an orc who had overpowered Merry, and, unexpectedly, a few spectral daggers to the throat spared a bewildered Boromir from an untimely death at the hands of another orc. Talion caught Boromir's surprised eye with a nod across the room before diving back into the fight. The most frightening of them all came when Frodo cried out for Aragorn, cornered by the cave troll. Despite taking a spear to the chest, the cave troll swatted Aragorn to the side without pause. Frodo ran to his side to find him unmoving but breathing, panicked. Afterwards he found himself slumped in a corner with the breath knocked out of him and, before he could react, viciously stabbed by the same spear.

"Frodo!" Sam shouted, and the fellowship battled to his side with a renewed vigor. Merry and Pippin leapt atop the cave troll, stabbing at it as the rest of the Fellowship attacking it from below. With furious cries Pippin and Merry stabbed the troll's head, wrenching it back and allowing Legolas to pierce its neck with several arrows. It swayed before falling to the ground with a loud thud, sending the hobbits tumbling off of it. Talion shook Aragorn slightly, and he came to with a look of confusion. He looked around to see the Fellowship surrounding the cave troll before his eyes fell on an unmoving Frodo. He stumbled to his feet before rushing over to him with wide eyes.

"Oh no," he whispered shakily, turning Frodo onto his front to find him alive and breathing. Sam rushed to his side as well with a look of relief, helping Frodo sit up.

"You should be dead," Aragorn told him. "That spear would've skewered a wild boar!"

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf told them all with a smile. Frodo looked to him before unbuttoning the top of his shirt to reveal…

"Mithril," Gimli uttered in awe. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins," he stated with a smile of his own. The relief in the room quickly morphed into panic at the echoing cries of yet more orcs, much louder and greater in number than before.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-Dum. Quickly!" Gandalf exclaimed, and the Fellowship followed his lead as they sprinted away from the quickly closing in army. The light of Gandalf's staff and the Light of Galadriel from Eltariel lit their way through the dark hall as orcs poured from behind them, the walls, the ceiling, flooding the area and leaving them with no route for escape. As they prepared to perhaps make their last stand, a low rumbling growl sent them all suddenly scurrying away in fear. The Fellowship looked back to see a bright, warm light illuminating the way they'd just come from, a strange heat filling the room. "Run!" Gandalf shouted, and they once again followed his lead.

They found themselves once again traversing narrow passages and staircases, narrowly avoiding falling over the edge on several occasions. As they continued on, they encountered a broken part of a staircase, a large gap between where they stood and the rest of the path. Legolas and Eltariel jumped it with ease, landing safely on the other side and holding their arms out to catch the others. Gandalf went first, managing to make it over without too much trouble. Boromir grabbed ahold of Merry and Pippin, the three of them making it over next as arrows began to rain down on them from orcs in the passageways above. Legolas drew his bow again and fended them off as Eltariel caught Sam, who had been thrown over by Aragorn. Aragorn offered to throw Gimli over next, but he stubbornly refused, attempting to make the jump by himself, only for Legolas to have to grab him by his beard and pull him forward before he could topple backwards into Moria's dark depths, Eltariel eliminating the rest of the orcs above them.

Talion, Aragorn, and Frodo remained on the other side, which cracked and swayed as the low, rumbling growl from earlier made itself known, now a roar. Talion froze. He knew that sound. With a crash, huge chunks of rock fell from above, effectively cutting off the way back. Aragorn, ever level headed, kept a tight grip on Frodo as the piece of staircase they stood on threatened to pitch them over the side.

"Lean forward!" Aragorn told them as the staircase steadied itself. As they did, they found themselves slowly falling towards the Fellowship, who looked on with nervous eyes. As the staircase pieces collided, the Fellowship was whole once more, Legolas steadying Aragorn and Frodo and Eltariel steadying Talion. They continued forward, the Bridge in sight as they reached the bottom of the path of staircases.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf told them, staying back as everyone else ran ahead. Talion stopped a few feet away, watching the flames that rose up from the edge of the passageway as a balrog emerged with a bloodcurdling low roar.

"Not again," he groaned as he and Gandalf caught up with the rest of the Fellowship, who had begun making it across the bridge.

Talion was about three quarters of the way across when he heard, "You cannot pass!" He stopped and looked back to see Gandalf standing his ground, facing the balrog with his staff lit brightly and raised in defense. What was he doing?!

"Talion!" Eltariel shouted in concern. Talion briefly looked to her before looking back at the scene unfolding before him. The balrog rose to full height, wings spread menacingly, flames wrapping around it like a fiery cloak, drawing a flaming sword with a growl.

"_I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor. Dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun!"_ The balrog swung heavily at Gandalf, whose shield of light knocked it back upon impact. "Go back to the shadow." Taking a step forward onto the bridge, the balrog brandished a fiery whip, cracking it in the air. The Fellowship looked on the edge of running out to him, but were frozen just like Talion, paralyzed with fear. "_You __**shall not**_ _pass!"_ Gandalf shouted with authority, slamming Glamdring and his staff down on the bridge with a flare of ancient power. As soon as the balrog took another step the bridge crumbled under its feet, sending it crashing down into the darkness below with a screech. Gandalf leaned on his staff heavily then, clearly exhausted, before turning to join the others.

Without warning he found himself being dragged back by the balrog's whip, hands scrabbling at the bridge for something to hang on to. Talion, reacting without thinking, shadow struck his way to Gandalf, grabbing one of his hands while trying to keep them both from falling. He gritted his teeth, hearing Frodo's panicked shouts for them both and feeling his heart seize in his chest. He saw Gandalf look past him to the rest of the Fellowship with resigned eyes, and a sense of dread filled him.

"Fly, you fools." Talion felt Gandalf pry his hand free.

"No!" Talion and Frodo exclaimed in unison. Gandalf gave him a meaningful look, eyes conveying so much to Talion in that moment, more than he knew what to do with, disappearing below. Time stood still as his gaze remained fixed to the spot that Gandalf had been in not a few seconds ago. Talion fell to his knees as despair knocked the breath out of him. Gandalf… Gandalf was…

"Aragorn!" Talion heard Boromir shout, shocking him out of his stupor. He looked back. Aragorn stood at the edge of the bridge, looking just as broken as Talion felt. Boromir held a struggling Frodo, disappearing from view. Aragorn met his gaze, and an understanding passed between them as they ran to join the rest of the Fellowship, arrows raining down upon them as orcs returned tenfold at the balrog's disappearance. Up several more staircases and they found themselves outside, back on a snowy mountainside with blue skies.

The hobbits crumpled to the ground with sobs, Gimli holding back furious tears as Boromir, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably, held him back from running inside in a murderous rage. Legolas looked back at the exit to Moria with a great sadness in his eyes. Eltariel was rooted to the spot, eyes closed, head bowed. Aragorn looked to be trying to pull himself together as quickly as possible, eyes sweeping over the group with sorrow before his expression changed to one of resolve.

Talion felt empty. He and Gandalf had never been overly close, but every member of the Fellowship shared a bond, a strong, unbreakable bond from travelling on what many deemed an impossible and suicidal journey. He stopped next to Frodo, who was stood by the edge of the rocky cliffs. Frodo looked to him, and Talion could see that his watery eyes had lost all hope and light, almost a dull grey compared to the soft blues he was used to seeing. They had made it through Moria, at the cost of one of their own. What other losses might they have to endure before this was all over? That question passed silently between the two of them as the Fellowship continued to mourn.

Talion thought he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, looking back to find no one there. He looked down to find the New Ring glowing softly beneath his armor, and Talion clutched it tightly to his chest, feeling a bit of warmth seep back into him. They would get through this. They **had** to. They had to keep moving. He looked to Aragorn, meeting his gaze with a nod.

"We cannot put our lives at risk by staying here to mourn Gandalf's passing," Aragorn told the group. Boromir looked ready to protest, but Aragorn cut him off. "By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs. We must reach Lothlorien."

"Come, Frodo," Talion told him gently, going to rejoin the others and dropping the New Ring out of sight. Frodo followed slowly, eyes distant. Legolas, Aragorn, and Boromir helped everyone up, and the Fellowship found the strength to move forward, sorrow hanging over them every step of the way.

***Ni mende illume aquet lye, melda: I will always answer you, beloved

Closing A/N: Sorry we're ending on a bit of a sad note (a devastating note) here. We'll probably continue on like this for a little while, though. Lothlorien might be a bit of a break from tragedy, but we all know how Amon Hen goes… Or do we? We'll just have to wait and see. Also, with the breaking of the Fellowship coming up, expect some Eltariel-centric chapters coming soon. See you guys next chapter!


	9. Fractures

Chapter Nine: Fractures

A/N: This one is going to be a bit different, as we'll have many Eltariel-centric scenes. I tried to balance out the Talion and Eltariel stuff a bit, even though this was very much an Eltariel chapter, but I don't think I did a very good job of it. Also, I'm very unsure about how I wrote Galadriel. I tried to go for showing that even otherworldly being like her are flawed, but I might have gone a bit overboard with it? She's a difficult character to write for, I think, with how complex she is and how many different ways you can interpret her. Nevertheless, have some Eltariel backstory, some Galadriel interactions, and some mourning for Gandalf. Starting off with Talion here.

Travel was once again silent, as it had been when the Fellowship first set out from Rivendell. This time, however, there were no quiet musings, no jokes or comments. There was only a downcast atmosphere that heavily weighed down each step they took. Aragorn and Legolas led the way, Boromir behind them, Gimli and the hobbits behind him, Eltariel and Talion bringing up the rear. Many sleepless nights were had, and Talion often found himself lying awake, staring at the endless skies with a mind he could not quiet. When his thoughts were so bad he felt he might crawl out of his skin, he quietly snuck away, sometimes to run and climb and jump until his lungs and muscles burned and he was out of breath, and others to call down his beloved drake, who he hadn't seen in many months. She came when called, affectionately bumping her snout against his armor in greeting.

Tonight, he sailed towards the clouds, feeling the wind whip his hair back, watching the dark, shadowy land below him blur by. Up here, he didn't think, didn't speak. He let Luinil, as he had decided to call her, carry him through the air, gently stroking her scales as she stretched her wings, flying freely through the air. He closed his eyes and held on tightly, trusting that she wouldn't take him too far from the others. By the time they were circling the camp overhead, the sky was just showing hints of a sunrise. They landed a safe distance away, quiet and unseen, or so Talion thought. As he clambered down from her back, he heard Luinil let out a low growl, and Talion followed her gaze to a bewildered Frodo, who looked frozen in terror. Talion shushed her gently, rubbing her snout and beckoning Frodo closer. Frodo looked between her and Talion apprehensively, but approached. Luinil growled with narrow eyes, but Talion shushed her again.

"Be nice," he told her quietly. "Hold your hand out, Frodo. She won't hurt you." Frodo did as he was asked, watching her sniff his hand and eye him curiously, yet cautiously before pressing her snout to his hand, sapphire eyes now filled with kindness. Frodo laughed nervously before petting her snout, pulling his hand away slowly and looking to Talion wide eyed.

"Is she a drake?" he asked.

"Yes. She's a fire drake, though not as vicious as many others that I have met. She protected me from one of her kin once, when it looked as if I might meet my end. She has been my companion ever since."

"Amazing," Frodo uttered in awe as she took off with a nod from Talion, the air from her wings ruffling his hair and clothes. "But, what are you doing up so late? I know you do not sleep often, but… Is everything alright?" Talion smiled sadly.

"There is much on my mind. Gandalf, the Rings, Sauron, Celebrimbor. Moria was only the beginning, and there are much worse things to come. After Lothlorien, we must keep moving."

"You're probably right. But how…" Talion looked to Frodo, who seemed to be struggling with his thoughts. "How do you do it? After everything you've lost, how do you find the strength to keep going?" Talion sighed, images of Dirhael and Ioreth flashing before his eyes at that, disappearing as quickly as they had come.

"I remember that I'm fighting for those I've lost, that they wouldn't want to see me lay down on my sword and give up. I'm fighting so that others will never have to endure the losses I have, and so those separated by the fighting can be together again someday." He pulled the New Ring out from underneath his armor, examining it in the pale light. "I know he would want me to keep fighting, instead of despairing over our separation… Just as Gandalf wouldn't want his death to weigh you down on our journey." Frodo nodded, looking away as he wiped at a tear.

"I miss him. I trust Aragorn to lead us, but… It won't be the same." Talion felt him lean against his side, and he embraced him comfortingly.

"I know, but all we can do now is move forward."

XxX

Eltariel was anxious during travel the next day. Her mind was elsewhere, and it wasn't until Talion brought up her peculiar behavior yet again after several responses of "It's nothing," and "I'm fine," that she finally answered.

"We are approaching Lothlorien," she told him, though she didn't seem at all thrilled at the idea. He took note of this.

"Aren't you excited to be so close to your home, a place others only hear about in tales and dreams?"

"I… Don't think I'd be very welcome there at the moment."

"And why is that?" She hesitated.

"I have failed My Lady. Had you not helped me escape Barad-Dur, I would still be in chains, wasting away while my quest remained unfinished. The Nazgul would roam Middle Earth without someone to keep them in check, without resistance, and probably would have captured the One Ring long ago. If they had succeeded, I…" She shook her head in dismay. "I do not think I could face her knowing this." Talion considered her for a moment.

"She is patient and just, yes? Surely she would understand that your task was nigh impossible?"

"She is not always as she appears. Just? Yes. Patient? Often. But… She is powerful, in both beauty and anger. She can be truly frightening. I… I strayed from my quest because of a _chance_ at true peace, at winning the war before it could truly begin, and a _glimpse_ of limitless power. She… Is cross with me." She looked away then, mind flashing back to her vision of the Lady Galadriel back at Barad-dur.

_As Celebrimbor and Sauron fused together, disappearing into a flaming eye that watched over Mordor with a vengeance, her vision faded to black as she collapsed. When next she could see, Eltariel found herself wandering through a heavy fog, until a bright light morphed into an all too familiar figure. Galadriel let her gaze settle over an exhausted, despairing Eltariel, who gasped at her appearance. "My Lady… I failed you," she said apologetically, approaching her. "I stood with Celebrimbor. I wore his Ring." She bowed her head in shame. "And we failed to defeat the Dark Lord."_

_Galadriel wore an unreadable expression, unsurprised by the information as she breezed right past Eltariel. "The Dark Lord and the Bright Lord are one, a flaming eye above Barad-dur… But I sent you to Mordor for the __**Nazgul**__, and your work is unfinished." Eltariel felt anguish wash over her at those words. She was tired, so tired. For years and years she had hunted down the foul Ringwraiths, doing nothing more than keeping them at bay, and after everything that she'd done… After having Sauron at her mercy—With Celebrimbor's help, of course—and failing to deal a finishing blow, with a Ring of Power as well… She wanted it to be over. She had faithfully served for as long as she could remember, but she couldn't… Defeat was not something she'd experienced since childhood, since her days of sparring with her brethren in Lothlorien. To be beaten on such a scale… How was she to continue knowing she'd failed her most important task yet, a task that dealt with the fate of the entirety of Middle Earth?_

"_My Lady, let me come home," she pleaded, raising her head. "I—_

"_You will finish what you started, beginning with the Nazgul who dwells within Minas Morgul, who now wears Isildur's Ring because of your recklessness." Nazgul…? __**Talion**__, Eltariel registered, guilt eating her away inside. Talion… Alive, wearing a new Ring of Power… A Nazgul? Surely not… How cruel could fate be to a man, especially a man who had suffered as much as he?_

"_My Lady, I cannot," Eltariel insisted desperately._

"_You __**will**_ _finish what you started," Galadriel emphasized, the power in her voice causing Eltariel to take a step back in fear. "__**Then**_ _you may return home." _

_Eyes cast downward, she replied, defeated, "It shall be done." As the light faded, she found herself waking in panic when she realized her predicament. She struggled against the chains that bound her, fought and screamed, in anger then in sorrow, until she was hoarse. The very notion of defeat drowned her in hopelessness, something she hadn't felt since her early childhood. She struggled with her chains until her muscles burned and exhaustion settled in. As her eyes slipped shut, she thought she could see the smirking form of Sauron making his way slowly towards her, eyes the color of flames. _

Shivering, she told him adamantly, "I _cannot_ go home." Talion looked to her with heartbreak, probably surprised at how vulnerable she seemed. She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"I… You didn't ask. At the time, I didn't think…" '_I didn't think you would care.'_ Talion sighed, but smiled reassuringly.

"I'm sure everything will be fine once we reach Lothlorien. Besides, weren't you the one that said it does not do to dwell only on the negative?" She scoffed, a sad smile tugging at her lips.

"I could always just kill you," she threatened halfheartedly instead.

"You are more than welcome to try," Talion responded smugly before once again becoming serious. "I… Thank you for trusting me. I know we do not always see eye to eye…"

"There is nothing to thank me for. I think… I needed to face the reality sooner or later."

"But I **do** need to thank you. I… Lately I've been noticing things, things I've taken for granted… Human things. Knowing how much I've changed, I thought the concept of trust between myself and another would be lost… But thanks to you and Aragorn and Frodo it's not, so thank you." As Eltariel processed his words for a moment, something clicked in her mind. That first night outside of Mordor. No wonder he'd seemed so shellshocked. Knowing he had changed was one thing, but truly feeling and understanding those changes… She understood, more than he could ever know.

"You are very welcome, Talion," she told him genuinely. From there, the two fell into a comfortable silence as the Fellowship continued moving forward.

XxX

"Stay closer, hobbits," Gimli warned in a hushed voice, beckoning to Frodo and Sam. "They say a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf witch… Of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell… And are never seen again." Eltariel eyed Gimli with a frown, watching Frodo look around, bewildered and frightened. She could only guess that the Lady Galadriel had made contact with him. She met Sam's eyes, meeting his look of concern with one of reassurance. He nodded to her before asking Frodo if he was alright. "Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily." Eltariel rolled her eyes as she watched the situation unfold, a few of her brethren approaching silently, mere steps from Gimli. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox! Oh!"

The Fellowship, save Legolas—who drew his bow without fear—and Eltariel, froze as newcomers aimed arrows between their eyes. The leader of the group wore a cautious expression, and Eltariel couldn't help but feel as if he were familiar. It had been too long since she had been home, and much had changed since her parting. She was no longer the carefree, wild looking ellith she once was, and she could only assume that those she knew would look completely different as well.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," he remarked, drawing a growl out of Gimli, before signaling to his allies. They lowered their bows, placing their arrows back in their quivers, leading them further into the forest to where they had been scouting. He welcomed Legolas and Aragorn kindly before acknowledging a fuming Gimli, who uttered something deplorable in Khuzdul that got him reprimanded by Aragorn and Talion. As his eyes fell on Talion and then Frodo, they widened as he felt the dark, raw power emanating from them, and he told them with a hint of finality, "You bring great evil with you. You can go no further." Aragorn went after him, and Eltariel listened to their back and forth: Aragorn insisted that if anyone could offer insight into the quest of the destruction of the Ring, it was Galadriel, and that the Fellowship intended to do everything in their power to ensure the quest was completed. The familiar stranger made his concern known, questioning the safety of the people of Lothlorien with the Enemy's coveted Ring in their midst. They continued their hushed discussion for several minutes, and Eltariel's attention turned back to the rest of the Fellowship.

Talion looked more isolated than usual, separating himself from the rest of the group and standing almost out of sight. Sorrow weighed the hobbits down heavily, and Eltariel watched Boromir try to comfort Frodo, whose eyes seemed most haunted by the events of Moria. Gimli glared at the elves that watched them, almost daring them to say something to him, while Legolas listened in on the conversation. After a final plea from Aragorn, the stranger relented, and motioned to the Fellowship.

"You will follow me," he told them, leading them further into the woods. They followed on for awhile in silence, and Eltariel's eyes never left him, trying to place where she'd heard his voice before. After the sky had lightened considerably they stopped at a vantage point, and she saw a proud yet gentle smile grace his features as he spoke with a true love for his home. "Caras Galadhon, the heart of Elvendom on earth, home of Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light." He continued to lead them into the heart of her home, and she watched their eyes widen with awe and wonder at the beauty of the realm. She re-familiarized herself with Lothlorien's endlessly tall trees, brightly lit winding staircases and platforms, the leaves of gold that gave the woods their name, and the peaceful atmosphere of a realm protected from the shadow of a greater evil. As she continued walking the path they were on, she began to realize just where they were being led, and she felt a shiver race down her spine, her last conversation with Galadriel coming to mind.

"Eltariel?" Talion asked quietly, just loud enough for only her to hear.

"It is nothing," she reassured him, though she could tell he didn't believe her for a second. At the top of the last flight of stairs was the highest platform of the great tree they had just ascended, and it led to what Eltariel knew to be the room of Galadriel and Celeborn, who descended the small set of stairs to their chambers hand in hand, glowing with a beauty only the high elves of old possessed. She kept silent throughout the conversation, closing her eyes in sorrow at the mention of Gandalf's passing in Moria, the air around Galadriel suddenly seeming suffocating from grief before it returned to normal. Eltariel tensed when she saw Galadriel look into the eyes of each individual member of the Fellowship. She watched Gimli's expression crumble before Galadriel's comforting words brought hope back into him, saw Aragorn bow his head, eyes cast downward, saw Boromir nearly burst into tears. Beside her, she heard Talion gasp, hand going to where the New Ring hung underneath his armor, and she was shocked to see Galadriel's brief look of surprise that disappeared in the blink of an eye. When he averted his gaze, trying to get his breathing back under control, she knew it was her turn.

Eltariel looked into Galadriel's eyes with shame, with regret and a sliver of hope, but was shocked when she received no terrifying visions or emotions, as her companions most likely had. Instead what she found was an almost unreadable expression full of too many emotions to proper decipher the Lady's true reaction to her. What she could make out was relief, sorrow, determination, and frustration, and she wasn't sure what exactly was being directed towards her. They broke eye contact then, and Eltariel let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, _you will sleep in peace."_ As she spoke those words, Eltariel saw her eyes fall on Frodo. For now, at least, she would be able to plan just what exactly she would say to Galadriel when the time came for them to meet again. As Galadriel swept gracefully away from the platform, Eltariel looked to Celeborn, who gazed upon her lovingly, and she did not hesitate to go to him as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Eltariel," he whispered fondly.

"My Lord," she greeted back with a kind smile, returning the embrace. When they pulled back, Celeborn lowered her hood, tucking loose strands of hair behind an ear as he observed her.

"The hardships and horrors of Middle-Earth have changed you greatly… But I am truly glad they have not changed you completely. Welcome home, sel nin." Eltariel couldn't help the way her heart felt lighter when she heard those words from him. She knew that she was no Celebrian, but Celeborn had never hesitated to treat her as if she were his daughter, and she couldn't feel more appreciative and loving towards the Lord of the Golden Wood. He returned to his chambers shortly after, and Eltariel readied herself to join the company when she came face to face with the ellon who had consumed her thoughts for most of their travels in Lothlorien. He took in her non-hooded appearance, and his eyes widened in recognition. But how could such a free and radiant spirit grow up to be such a mystery? No longer was she the young elleth he'd trained with, spent nights under the stars with, chased through trees and challenged to dares that usually got the two in almost as much trouble as his brothers. No, here was a battle hardened elleth who'd seen and done much, so much that he hadn't recognized her at first glance. Eltariel watched his confusion morph into an almost surprised happiness.

"Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would be reunited here. You are much changed since last we saw each other, gwinig." The nickname drew a gasp out of her as she realized just who she was speaking to, and her gaze softened, filled first with great joy before being replaced by great sorrow.

"Haldir." He nodded, smile slowly fading as he watched an apology rise to her lips. He shushed her gently as she went to speak, a hand raised in plea.

"What's done is done, and the past is behind us. I do not wish to reflect on unpleasant times." She nodded, looking at how much her childhood best friend had changed in her absence. Muscle built from years of hard work and training, beautiful long golden tresses that hung past his shoulders and framed his face just so, steely blue eyes no longer holding the mischief that used to always be present in them. He had grown into a fine and handsome ellon. "I am glad you have returned home safely, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"As do I," she told him. "I…" What could she say to him? Ever since she had left, she had done her best to put her past behind her, to focus only on the task at hand: to hunt down the Nazgul and defeat them once and for all. She had tried to block out all memories of a frivolous childhood, so as to not let those times distract her when greater things were at stake. Now, she felt the walls she'd built to protect herself come crashing down, joyful memories of a time of peace and few worries flooding her mind. She shook her head as some of her last memories of home, of Haldir, and her departure, made themselves known, and Haldir looked to her in concern. "I am glad to see you well," she finally settled on. "It seems I'm not the only one who is much changed." Haldir laughed softly.

"My days of pranking my brothers and running rampant through the trees are behind me. I no longer have the time as marchwarden, and… I lost my accomplice along the way." His gaze saddened at that, and Eltariel sighed.

"That time has passed for me as well. I… Don't even know if I remember how it feels, to run free, without a care in the world, without the fate of the world resting partly on my shoulders…" A strange silence followed for a few moments before Haldir cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You must be weary from your travels. Perhaps you should rest."

"Perhaps," Eltariel agreed quietly. They met each other's gazes with unreadable expressions before averting their eyes and parting ways, not looking back.

XxX

A few days later Talion found himself wandering as the rest of the Fellowship settled in for the night, gaze drawn to the beauty of the Golden Wood in the dark. Brilliantly lit paths led him to many small clearings and stretches of forest, and the soft sounds of nature calmed him as he allowed his mind to wander, his feet carrying him where they would. He only looked up when his steps slowed, finding himself in a new clearing, stone statues, ancient trees, a fountain, and a strange stone basin at its center. Galadriel looked up from where she was gathering water, and he met her gaze curiously. She still glowed with the same otherworldly light and beauty as before, but this time she had a different air about her. She observed him with caution, and Talion's mind flashed back to their arrival, to her shock at finding out about his connection to Celebrimbor through the New Ring.

"Your fate is a strange one, Talion of the Black Gate. Before our first meeting, I considered you an enemy, a threat to this world. Now… Your fate has changed yet again, and it is unclear where it will now take you." Talion came further into the area, moving around slowly.

"How has it changed?"

"Before, you seemed destined to join the Nine, trapped in servitude to Sauron until the undoing of the One Ring. Now, you and Eltariel have begun to rewrite a tale that seemed set in stone." Talion averted his gaze as her eyes turned piercing, searching. "But that is not the reason you came here." Talion paused, but nodded.

"Frodo told me of a mirror, one that allows you to see what may or may not come to pass, full of horrors and tragedy."

"And you wish to see for yourself," Galadriel observed, approaching the mirror and pouring more water into it, actions graceful and effortless. Talion nodded, bowing with a deep breath.

"With your permission, my lady." She looked at him for a moment before taking a few steps back, welcoming him forward.

"As you wish." He stood back up, taking uneasy steps towards the mirror, stopping as he hovered over it, seeing his reflection in the water, the moon and stars a bright, stark contrast to his dark armor and gloomy figure. He stared at the unmoving surface nervously, startling as it rippled.

_His eyes turned their flame color, a Ringwraith's mask coming to cover the rest of his face, a fell beast landing next to him on the flaming plains of Gorgoroth. The scene changed, showing a massacre of the members of the Fellowship and an army battling orcs and Uruk-hai, the capture of Eltariel and Aragorn, looking bloodied and lifeless. He hovered over a terrified Frodo, Urfael held to his throat as he snatched the chain of the One Ring from around his neck with a victorious, cold grin. He slit Frodo's throat slowly and with satisfaction, watching Frodo choke on his own blood as the life drained from his eyes._

_The scene changed again, Talion kneeling at Sauron's feet, holding the One Ring out to him, Sauron's eyes alight, grin wide. He slid it on his finger, and Talion found himself blasted back by a burst of all-powerful energy, a strong and whole looking Sauron standing tall and invincible before him. Talion's gaze looked out from the top of Barad-dur, watching the entirety of Middle-Earth fall under Sauron's tyranny, civilizations a shell of their former selves, endless armies enslaving those too afraid to fight back, places of beauty unrecognizable, more of a graveyard than the entrance to Moria._

_At the end of it all, however, was an eye. It was not greedy, hate filled, and the color of ravenous flames, as expected, but benevolent, determined, and sky blue. It hovered over all of the terrible visions seen before it, a light piercing through the hopeless and terrifying darkness. In it was the silhouette of a very familiar elf, and one of Talion's eyes returned to its natural sapphire shade, a human hand trying to free itself from a cloak of darkness reaching for the eye in desperation. A spectral hand reached back… _

Talion found himself stumbling backwards, hand clutching at the glowing and burning New Ring as he barely managed to stay on his feet, breathing erratic and panicked, heart racing. He looked to Galadriel, who met his eyes with an unreadable expression, though he could see a hint of sadness. He took a few more breaths before speaking, steadying himself.

"Is that… My future? To join them? To fall?" He shuddered, and the image of him with flaming eyes and a Ringwraith mask, merciless and unfeeling, flashed before his eyes again. He flinched, holding the New Ring tightly. Galadriel's gaze fell upon his clenched hand, a soft smile coming to her face.

"If Celebrimbor has anything to say about it, no." He followed her gaze to his clenched hand, opening it to show her the New Ring. "There is a great darkness that tries to overcome you, the price you continue to pay for bearing Isildur's Ring." He watched her expression fall as she said so, and she noticed. "It was a surprise upon first discovery of the original owner of the Ring you wear, a tale that was never told and kept secret. The same can be said of your New Ring. **Your **future is in **your **hands, and it is not mine to tell whether or not the darkness claims you in the end. That is for you to decide." She stepped closer, closing his hand gently around the New Ring and bringing it back to his chest. "Whether you realize it or not, your fate is now tied to Frodo's. If either one of you falls, all will be lost. Remember this," she told him.

Talion bowed, taking his leave, mind spinning with what he'd just seen. He returned to his resting place, suddenly weary, and as he settled down he heard a soft voice in his ear. "_The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled in grief, it grows perhaps the greater."_ The words were comforting, bringing him warmth and reassurance as his eyes slipped shut in slumber for the first time in a long time.

XxX

Eltariel found herself wandering around just within the outskirts of the forest in the early morning, eventually hanging upside down in a tree, eyes closed, listening to everything around her. She hadn't done that in many years, not since she'd left, and for whatever reason something possessed her to do it as the sun began to rise. It was familiar, comforting, something that seemed at least halfway normal ever since she'd begun remembering _that_ part of her past, her younger, more carefree days. It was… Nice, freeing. She drew one of her swords when she heard a rustling to her left, greeted by a fond laugh shortly after.

"This is a welcome sight," Haldir told her gladly, hands held up in surrender as she opened her eyes, and she felt herself flash him a lopsided grin that hadn't emerged from her since her late adolescent years, lowering her sword and dropping down on the thick branch below her.

"I… Needed to get away for a bit, clear my head. I… Missed doing that," she told him, grin dialing down to a wistful smile. "Morning patrol?"

"Yes. You're welcome to join us if you'd like." Eltariel considered it, and decided she might benefit from more familiarity, nodding and sheathing her sword. "Do you still remember the routes?"

"Well enough," she answered, falling to his side, drawing startled stares as they caught up to the rest of the patrol. She glanced at the others and found herself surrounded by old acquaintances and a few faces she didn't quite remember. They walked alongside the paths, above in the trees and just out of sight on the ground. She re-familiarized herself with her surroundings and the patrol route, getting flashes of her childhood every now and then. The patrol proved to be relaxing and something she didn't know she truly needed, and as the rest of the patrol headed back towards the heart of Lothlorien, Eltariel pulled Haldir aside as something caught her eye.

"What is it?" he asked in worry, reaching for his bow with a frown. She stilled his hand, pointing instead to a large, old tree with a hollow trunk and wide opening at the base. His expression softened, a small smile appearing on his face. "Ah," he realized, the two of them walking over to it.

"Do you remember when we would meet here after returning from our assignments? We would share meals and tales of heroic deeds…"

"And reenact battles of old on the nights we would stay."

"And get in trouble the next day for going missing." They stopped at the entrance to the tree, peering inside of it. Old tally scratch marks, climbing branches, and small, dusk covered trinkets remained. Eltariel traced over some of the marks, remembering her younger self scratching them into the trunk after a particularly successful assignment. She felt herself genuinely smile yet again, joy flowing through her, such a small thing, and yet… Something she never knew she would miss. Haldir watched her, unable to stop himself from smiling as well.

"It was a long time ago…" he began, smile faltering and eyes turning sad. "Before you left." Eltariel's expression immediately crumbled at his words as memories of that day came to the forefront of her mind.

"_Eltariel, wait!" Haldir shouted, chasing after her as they neared the border, dodging odd tree limbs and gnarled, above ground roots. "Please, wait!"_

"_This doesn't concern you, Haldir!" she shouted back, finally stopping when open land was in sight again with a sigh, turning towards him. "Just go back," she told him quietly. It was the dead of night, and she'd left right as the night patrol had returned, picking an odd spot on the border to take her leave from. Haldir took another step forward defiantly._

"_You leave without a trace in the middle of the night? Without a word? Without saying goodbye?" She kept a straight face, hiding her feelings._

"_I have to do this."_

"_You don't have to go alone. Whatever it is, all you had to do was ask and I would have come with you."_

"_You wouldn't abandon your brothers," Eltariel protested. "You would never leave your home."_

"_**Our**_ _home—_

"_No. __**Your**_ _home, Haldir." Haldir looked taken aback at her statement, and she shook her head, trying her best to look indifferent when everything inside of her was screaming at her to stop this charade and tell him. "I was an outcast, discovered by a young boy and spared by the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn's kindness. Did you ever really believe, deep down, that I had any place here?" Haldir stared at her in shock._

"_Of course you do!" he defended. "You have always had a place here. You are our finest warrior, our sharpest scout, my best friend."_

"_A good sword arm, a decent eye, and your… __**Affections**_ _are supposed to mean I belong?" She shook her head again. "I need to go." She turned to continue forward, but was shocked when Haldir grabbed her arm, keeping her in place._

"_What aren't you telling me, Eltariel? This isn't like you! Ever since you returned from your last assignment, you've… Changed." He caught the haunted look that glazed over her eyes for a moment before it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by a glare._

"_Maybe I've decided I'm done wasting my time here. Maybe I'd rather be on my own than spend another minute around you." Eltariel felt her heart break at Haldir's hurt look, but maintained her glare, and his grip slowly loosened around her arm, until he finally let go._

"_I know you're lying to me," he whispered, eyes averted. "I just wish you would tell me why." Eltariel turned away from him as she felt a tear slide down her cheek. She'd promised. She'd promised the Lady she wouldn't tell anyone, not even… Not even Haldir. Everyone had to believe she had left, for their own safety. If word got out one of their own were hunting down the Nazgul, that the threat of Sauron was once again serious, a panic would arise. Word could spread outside, people could get ideas, put their lives and others' lives in danger. The peace Lothlorien had worked so hard to attain would be shattered in an instant, and they might find themselves caught in a war._

"_Goodbye, Haldir," Eltariel told him, cursing the slight shake in her voice as she took off, not looking back._

She shook her head, pushing the memory away, ignoring the tightness in her chest and the burning of her eyes. **This**, she reminded herself, was why she had fought so hard to lock away her memories of this place. If she were in a battle with a Nazgul, on the verge of defeat or death, and her mind flashed back to a moment like that, or a fonder memory, she would be done for. They served as distractions, weaknesses that made her an easy target. She reigned in her expression into the cool, indifferent mask she had perfected long ago, not quite able to meet his eyes.

"You're right. It was a long time ago. I'm… Distracting you from your duties as marchwarden. Forgive me," she told him, stepping away. "I shall take my leave." Before he could stop her, she was out of sight, and Haldir sighed, mentally scolding himself. Whatever assignment Galadriel had sent her on all those years ago had changed her, and reminding her of the past was the last thing he should have done. He quickly headed after the rest of the patrol, distracted for much of the rest of the day, replaying that same memory in his mind.

XxX

Later that day saw Eltariel sparring with an equally distracted Talion, Aragorn and Boromir watching from the sidelines. They both missed ye another swing, and Talion growled in frustration, standing down.

"This is pointless," Talion told her as she looked to him in confusion. "Your mind is elsewhere, and so is mine. We stand more of a chance at accidentally hurting each other than keeping our skills sharp." She stood down as well, lowering her swords with a sigh.

"Being back here, it… It brings back many memories," she admitted.

"I know," Talion told her softly, not oblivious to her far off and sometimes remorseful looks. "But sparring… Helps?"

"I was taught to fight at a young age, and my skills only grew with time. Sparring is usually something I can lose my mind to, but…" Her eyes found Haldir, sitting down with members of the border guard. "There are some things I cannot so easily forget." Talion and Aragorn followed her gaze with questioning looks before Eltariel raised her blades again, eyes back on Talion. "Now, let us try again."

"Are you sure?" Talion asked worriedly.

"**Yes.**" He sighed, but raised Urfael, falling back into his battle stance. Their movements were not as light and elegant as they'd usually be, but the two still fought with a grace and technique that many elves marveled at as they occasionally stopped to watch. They knew of Eltariel's skills as a warrior, but many had never seen it with their own eyes. Talion moved with the combined muscle memory of his and Celebrimbor's fighting techniques, a strange, but highly effective mix of styles that often left opponents guessing. As Talion seemed to settle into a groove, Eltariel found herself growing a bit frustrated, anger weighing down her movements slightly, enough that only a seasoned fighter would notice. Aragorn, Talion, and Boromir frowned slightly at the change.

"You are fighting angrily, Eltariel," a graceful voice called from not too far away. Talion and Eltariel froze as the Lady Galadriel reached them, standing down and greeting her respectfully.

"Lady Galadriel," Talion greeted with a slight bow.

"My Lady," Eltariel greeted, tone of voice calm, but expression slightly nervous.

"Your anger slows your movements, blinds your senses. It is not becoming of you, to fight in such a way." She reached out a hand to her, expression unreadable, but eyes requesting. "Shall we take a walk?"

"Of course," Eltariel answered after a moment of hesitation. Sheathing her swords, she took Galadriel's hand, falling in step with her as they left, throwing an apologetic look Talion's way. The two walked for some time in silence, neither of them speaking until they began the climb up a spiral stairway, headed towards Galadriel's chambers.

"Forgive me for whence last we spoke. My emotions got the better of me."

"M-My Lady?" Eltariel asked her, and they stopped on a lower platform. Galadriel sighed sadly.

"When I realized what you had done, I was angry, disappointed that you would go against my wishes. You had never done so before, and my words were overly harsh."

"I never should have strayed from the mission. My moment of weakness nearly cost me my life, and now… It could cost this world."

"You thought you could stop a great evil before it spread. A Ring of Power is a tempting thing." Galadriel held up Nenya, eyes falling on it briefly before looking back to Eltariel. "Your actions were misguided, but your intentions were noble. Celebrimbor made a compelling argument, but failed to realize he was only at his most powerful with Talion at his side. It is that which cost you."

"That still doesn't excuse my actions. I… Left him to die," Eltariel told her, remorseful.

"And he has forgiven you, has he not?"

"I… I don't know," she answered truthfully. "He says he trusts me."

"Then perhaps you have your answer." They continued up the stairs, stopping as they reached the platform of the tallest tree, a long familiar sight. "I must also apologize for something else."

"My Lady, you have nothing to apologize for," Eltariel insisted. "I owe you almost everything."

"Haldir came to me, when you first left us, demanding answers. I gave him none, and he changed, never quite the same as he once was. He came to me this morning and asked me about the same things he had then: where you had gone, what you were doing, why it was kept a secret."

"And?"

"I told him. He discovered that the Fellowship was carrying Rings of Power with them, that a threat had appeared in Middle-Earth, that you were a part of that quest. There was no reason to keep the information from him any longer. I realized then, that you had also changed. You have never been the same since your first assignment on the Nazgul, and I am to blame."

"I knew what I was getting myself into when I took it."

"As did I, and when I saw that you were successful, I continued to push you, continued assigning you to them." She slowly pulled down Eltariel's hood, cradling her face gently, eyes lingering on faded scars and worry lines with sad eyes. "You are like a daughter to me, and my faith in your abilities blinded me. You were young, and I forced you to mature far before any elleth should have. For that, I ask your forgiveness." Galadriel bowed her head, dropping her hands, and Eltariel gaped, frozen in shock.

"I… My Lady, please raise your head! It… It is true that the Nazgul assignments changed me, but without them, I would not have met Talion, would never have discovered the threat of the Nine. We would not be here now. And even if my social skills need a bit of work…" she added with a small smile, "You won't find a better fighter anywhere on Middle-Earth." Galadriel raised her head with a small smile of her own.

"I am glad to see that you have not changed completely."

"As am I." Eltariel bowed her head. "My lady," she said in parting.

"Go well, Eltariel. Your days of rest here are swiftly approaching their end. The next part of your journey… Will be fraught with peril." Eltariel nodded, and the two went their separate ways.

XxX

The Fellowship rowed down the waters out of Lothlorien on their way to Amon Hen, mourning still but in noticeably higher spirits, calmed, assured, determined. To each member, Galadriel gave a gift, each with their own significance and purpose. Legolas received a bow of the Galadhrim, Merry and Pippin blades of the Noldorin. To Gimli, who gazed upon her with reverence and admiration, she gifted him three of her hairs instead of one, as he had asked. To Sam, she gave a bundle of elven rope and a nut from a Mallorn tree to plant in his garden in the Shire, and to Frodo the Light of Elendil. To Boromir, she gave him a belt of gold not found anywhere else on Middle-Earth, and to Aragorn she had no gift greater than anything he already possessed, eyes lingering on the Evenstar as she told him so. Eltariel had declined a gift, simply showing the Light of Galadriel and bowing her head, and Galadriel respected her decision. At last she reached Talion, who had bowed to her respectfully before meeting her eyes.

"_And what gift would you ask of me, Ranger of the Black Gate?" Talion sighed, shaking his head._

"_I know not what to ask for, nor what is within your power to grant me." She smiled softly at him at that._

"_Then I give you this." She held out a small bound journal, preserved by magic, a likeness of holly etched on its cover. "It came into my possession from Rivendell, recovered from Eregion's remains after its demise. It is his." Talion took it reverently, opening it and seeing familiar elegant handwriting, hand drawn maps, sketches and designs for weapons and crafts. He looked to her gratefully._

"_I couldn't ask for anything greater. Thank you."_

Galadriel's soothing, beautiful voice accompanied them on their departure as she saw them off, and she silently wished them well as they headed towards the place where temptation, separation, and death would awaited them.

**Luinel: Blue Star

**sel nin: my daughter

**gwinig: little one

Closing A/N: Amon Hen next chapter! It's… It's going to be interesting. *_wink wink nudge nudge_ Jo* :) And clarifications on Eltariel's past will be forthcoming in… two more chapters if I get my way. Can't promise a super quick update with the semester starting back up next week, but I'll do my best. Hope everyone's had a lovely start to the year, and I will see you guys next chapter!


	10. The Breaking of the Fellowship

Chapter Ten: The Breaking of the Fellowship

A/N: *takes deep breath* I can't believe we're already at the end of Fellowship of the Ring. Holy crap. I never thought so many people would read this, so I'm grateful beyond words for the continued support and encouragement from everyone! It has arrived, ladies and gentlemen, and to quote Luke Skywalker, "This is not going to go the way you think!" ;) Enjoy!

For several days the Fellowship travelled along the river. Legolas, Gimli, and Eltariel were in one boat, with Aragorn, Sam, and Frodo in another. The final boat held Boromir, Merry, Pippin, and Talion. Not many words were spoken other than the occasional observation of their surroundings. "The lands are becoming barren," or, "The waters are beginning to run roughly," perhaps. Several nights had been fraught with unease, one in particular leading to a heated discussion between Boromir and Aragorn on where to go first, arguing that going to Minas Tirith would give them all a chance to regroup, and a strong point of attack and army of soldiers with which to strike Mordor. When Aragorn did not see his way, Boromir accused him of having no faith in his own people, of forsaking his duties as the heir of Isildur. Aragorn ended the conversation after that, saying he refused to let the Ring go anywhere near Minas Tirith, for the safety of all involved.

It was a few nights later, when the rest of the Fellowship was fast asleep after a rough and tiring day, fighting rapids and turning around to find alternate routes forward, that Talion and Boromir engaged in conversation. The Fellowship were scattered around a fire by the shore that burned brightly in the darkness of night, the gentle rushing of water soothing, quiet. Talion had been staring up at the stars for a little while, lying down with his arms tucked underneath his head, nostalgic. His gaze was drawn back downward at the sound of shuffling. Boromir, expression troubled, blinked a nightmare away, breathing uneven and eyes watering. He looked to Talion, surprised to see concern.

"Are you alright?" Talion asked him quietly. Boromir sighed, rubbing furiously at his eyes, sitting up and taking a deep breath.

"I am fine," he answered unconvincingly, voice distraught, averting his eyes.

"You had a nightmare," Talion observed as he sat up, and Boromir looked to him with an unreadable expression. "I've had enough of my own to be able to tell the signs. Something continues to trouble you." Boromir met Talion's eyes in the pale moonlight, searching for any ulterior motives or dark intentions. He saw none, instead greeted with the same gaze as when they'd first met in Rivendell: scarred, but trustworthy, filled with genuine concern. Why was Talion such a mystery to him? He had no reason to trust him and every reason not to, and yet… He did. His mind flashed back to Moria, when Talion had saved him in the midst of battle, and the nights where he and Frodo would confide in one another, speaking in hushed whispers when they thought everyone was asleep. He remembered Talion's words from the Council, his refusal to take the One Ring, Talion's concern and outrage at his words of taking the Ring to Gondor. He sighed again, relenting.

"I did," Boromir admitted after a few moments of hesitation. "You remember when I told you about my father wanting Isildur's Bane, sending me to the Council instead of my brother Faramir?" Talion nodded. "Faramir… He has visions, every so often. They have not once been wrong. Before I left Minas Tirith I spent much of the day in his company, and he seemed… Haunted. He refused to tell me what he saw, only pleading with me to promise I would return home alive." He paused as he heard Faramir's voice, as clear as if he were next to him right then and there.

_Promise me, brother. Promise you will return safely, __**alive**__. I do not think I could bear it if you…_

"I promised him I would, and yet his terror has continued to weigh on my mind all journey. As we travel further down the river, it becomes worse. I can't help but feel…" Talion nodded in understanding.

"You feel the peril approaching." Boromir nodded in confirmation.

"I know not what it is, only that it may lead to an unfortunate end."

"For who?" Boromir didn't answer for a moment. "Boromir?"

"For me. An unfortunate end for me." The two were silent as the words hung heavy in the air between them. "I cannot do that to him," Boromir whispered, voice shaking.

"You care greatly for him," Talion noticed.

"He means the world to me," Boromir told him, and Talion could hear how deeply true his words were, realizing something.

"Is that why you've been trying to get us to go to Minas Tirith?" He knew, of course, that Boromir's obsession with the One Ring was the main reason for the idea, but Talion couldn't help but feel that that wasn't the only one.

"Partly, yes. I made a promise that I intend to keep."

"And the One Ring?" Boromir stiffened at that. "Is that the other reason?" Boromir glared.

"And if it is?"

"The Ring is Frodo's and Frodo's **alone** to bear. It doesn't belong in the hands of a king hungry for power."

"You think I don't know that?" Boromir hissed quite loudly, and the two looked to Merry and Pippin, who slept not too far away, nervously. Pippin shifted in his sleep, but didn't wake. They both let out relieved breaths before Boromir continued. "I know why my father wants the Ring, and I know what will happen if I give it to him. I have seen the effects of a Ring, in you and in Frodo. Even… Even in myself…" Talion looked at him in surprise. "Even now, your Ring whispers to me in one ear while Frodo's whispers in the other. There are some days where I think I may go mad… But hiding the Ring in Gondor is much safer than trying to get the Ring to Mount Doom, in the heart of a cursed land."

"I agree that the journey to Gondor would be safer, but how long could you keep the Ring hidden, knowing you could take it at any time if you so desired?" He held up the hand that held Isildur's Ring, extending it towards Boromir. Boromir's eyes were drawn to it immediately, his own hand slowly closing around Talion's, grasping the Ring. "My lesser Ring ensnares you easily, and yet you believe you have the strength to take the One Ring to Gondor without falling prey to its will, to Sauron's will." Isildur's Ring glowed ominously in Boromir's hand, and his eyes went wide, falling on Talion's now transformed face. He snatched his hand away in alarm, arm smacking against the paddle laying beside him in his haste.

"I…"

"You can barely look at me in this form. Were you to take the One Ring, you would become even more unrecognizable, even to yourself, **especially** to yourself." They both grimaced at the ominous, warped echo to his voice, and Talion sighed. Boromir looked straight into his crimson eyes, seeing flashes of the other Nazgul Talion had fought in the past, seeing _their_ pasts before they received Rings. Talion looked to him sadly as Boromir came back to awareness. "You are right not to trust me when any day I could lose myself completely, just as they did. I understand why you and Gimli wanted me to have no part in this journey. All I ask is that you don't make the same mistakes that I did. While I wouldn't take my choice back, and as noble as my intentions were… This Ring will be my undoing."

"I can't promise anything. My will is not like yours," Boromir told him, averting his eyes.

"Then think of Faramir," Talion told him. "Would Faramir want you to take the Ring, knowing the risks? Would he want to see you like this?" he asked, gesturing to himself. Boromir looked to Talion, conflicted, desperate for answers no one could give him.

"And who do you think of, when the darkness closes in?" Talion smiled softly.

"I remember my wife, my son, and when I feel as if the Ring might consume me… I think of _**him.**_"

"Him?"

"The one I love. Celebrimbor." Talion hesitated, his hand freezing halfway towards his chest. Should he show Boromir, when two Rings of Power were already enough to affect him so? Boromir noticed the hand that was reaching up, and Talion's hesitation.

"The chain around your neck. Was it… His?" Talion let out a breath of relief, lowering his hand back down to his side.

"Yes. It's all I have left of him. It keeps us connected, in every sense of the word." He felt the Ring warm against his skin, a phantom pair of arms wrapping around him from behind, smiling softly and feeling the darkness slowly recede from him. Boromir watched his features slowly return to normal after that, and the next time he looked into Talion's eyes, they were their usual light blue. Talion still saw uneasiness in his gaze, and couldn't help the words that left him next. "Whatever fear it is that weighs on your mind will not come to pass, I swear to you." Boromir was speechless and, not knowing how to react to Talion's words, simply nodded.

"Thank you, Talion. Perhaps, when our journey is complete and we arrive in Minas Tirith, I can show you around the city. I'm sure much has changed in the time you've been away." Boromir noticed the way Talion's eyes lit up hopefully at that. Never in his wildest dreams did Talion ever think he would step foot in Gondor again, and the thought of seeing **the** city in all of its glory now… Boromir smiled slightly at that, and Talion smiled back.

"I'd like that."

XxX

The next day was cloaked in a strange feeling. While their journey by boat had been uneventful thus far, worry was ever present within the Fellowship. For a few brief moments, however, awe replaced it as their boats passed through the Gates of Argonath. Proud stone likenesses as tall as the eye could see of two great kings of old. On one side, there was Anarion, High King of Gondor. On the other, his brother, Isildur, High King of Arnor.

"The sons of Elendil," Talion murmured in awe, the rest of the Fellowship equally amazed at the sight. Boromir and Aragorn couldn't help but smile as they gazed upon them, and it seemed as if the Fellowship had just taken its first worry free breath since leaving Lothlorien. Later, into the early afternoon, they stopped at the shore of Amon Hen as Aragorn told them they were resting for the day, and would leave out again at nightfall, under the safety and cover of darkness, approaching Mordor from the north. Gimli didn't take too kindly to that idea, not particularly keen on having to navigate Emyn Muil, or miles upon miles of marshland. Aragorn wouldn't budge on his decision, and Gimli was left quietly fuming as Aragorn turned his attention to a concerned looking Legolas.

"We should leave now," he told Aragorn in a hushed voice.

"No," Aragorn replied. "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."

"Orcs are not the concern," Eltariel told him, she and Talion joining their sides.

"There is something coming, something dark and dangerous, and it is fast approaching," Talion warned him.

"A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it," Legolas insisted. Aragorn sighed, but remained steadfast in his decision.

"I understand, but we cannot move now without engaging in battle, and there is too much risk in daylight. We await nightfall." They all wore defeated expressions at the tone of finality in Aragorn's voice, but dropped the issue. The rest of the day remained tense, uneasiness growing in everyone. Talion found Frodo hidden a little ways away from the group, just out of sight, worrying the One Ring between his fingers. He looked up as he heard Talion approach, expression flashing briefly to panic before calming again.

"May I?" Talion asked, gesturing across from Frodo.

"Of course," Frodo told him, and Talion sat, sighing.

"So, you've decided you want to go alone?" Frodo looked to him wide-eyed at that.

"How did you—

"Aragorn told me. Are you sure that's what you want? You know that we're all willing to see this through to the very end."

"I know…" Frodo whispered sadly, "And that's why I **have **to do this alone. I could never forgive myself if something happened to anyone else. We've already lost Gandalf. The world can't afford to lose you, or Aragorn, or the rest of the Fellowship." Talion smiled slightly at that.

"You have a kind and pure heart, Frodo. I can think of no one better to do this task than you… But think about this more, _please_. This doesn't have to be where we part ways. Let us help you. Let us be there for you." Frodo's heartbroken expression only confirmed to Talion that he wasn't changing his mind, and Talion bowed his head in defeat.

"I'll think about it," Frodo told him, getting to his feet. "I just… Need time to myself."

"Of course," Talion told him. "Don't stray too far." Frodo nodded, disappearing further into the trees. Talion briefly entered the wraith world, seeing a trail of bright footsteps as Frodo continued on. Talion shook his head, dismayed at Frodo's answer, rejoining the rest of the Fellowship, not noticing Boromir slip away after Frodo. He sat next to Eltariel, who was sharpening one of her swords, looking a bit less put together than usual, as had been the normal since Lothlorien.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Determined to go alone," Talion answered. "He does not want another life lost."

"We all knew there were life and death risks on this journey."

"He would not hear it. He headed further in, wanted more time to think about it, he said." Eltariel hummed worriedly, putting her sword down and looking to Talion.

"Will he be alright?" Talion shook his head.

"I don't know."

Meanwhile, Frodo paced restlessly, surrounded by trees and standing in front of stairs of stone that overlooked the area. He knew what he needed to do, but when would he leave? Should he wait until night drew nearer? How would he leave without anyone seeing? He was startled out of his thoughts by Boromir, who he hadn't heard nor seen follow him.

"None of us should wander alone, least of all you, Frodo." Frodo looked to him warily, but Boromir approached calmly, peacefully, expression worried. "I know why you seek solitude. You suffer. I see it, day by day. Are you sure it isn't needlessly?" Frodo's gaze turned piercing, defensive.

"I know what you might say. It would seem like wisdom were it not for the warning in my heart." Boromir looked to him in genuine confusion.

"A warning? Against what?" Frodo walked around him, trying to put some space in between them should the worst happen.

"I know that you desire the Ring. I know you wish to take it to Minas Tirith, but there is no other way! It must be destroyed!" Boromir's expression changed suddenly, and he looked as if torn between rushing at Frodo and falling to his knees in despair.

"I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" Boromir told him desperately, taking a step forward. "If you could but lend me the Ring—" Frodo stumbled back a few more steps as Boromir approached, and Boromir stopped at his reaction. "Why do you recoil?"

"Because you are not yourself!" Frodo told him, starting to feel panic bubble within him.

"Not myself? It may seem that way to you, but my words are entirely my own. What chance do you think you have? They will find you! They will take the Ring, and you will beg for death before the end!" Frodo couldn't hold his gaze any longer, turning on his heel and walking away. Something in Boromir seemed to break then, his emotions almost palpable, and Frodo couldn't help the way his chest seized at Boromir's voice. "I'm only trying to protect you, Frodo!" Frodo looked back as he heard hurried footsteps, tripping over his feet as he tried to run, only for Boromir to tackle him to the ground, eyes no longer friendly, but terrifying, full of desire for the Ring.

"Let go!"

"Just give it to me!" The two struggled for a few moments before one of Boromir's hands managed to hold Frodo's arms at bay, the other closing around the One Ring. At long last, it was about to be his. He faltered as he began to tug it from around Frodo's neck, Frodo's terrified breath drawing his gaze. The heartbreak and betrayal in his eyes combined with Talion's words from their conversation was enough to snap Boromir out of it. What had he said? What had he done? Was he really about to…? "Frodo, I…" Frodo saw the remorse and the horror in Boromir's gaze, knowing in his heart that Boromir had not been himself, but needing to get away. Heart racing, he saw his chance to escape. He kicked Boromir in the gut, sending him tumbling away, sliding the Ring on his finger and disappearing from sight, running as fast as he could up the stone stairs and away from the area. Boromir staggered to his feet, looking around in a panic, guilt and despair eating him alive. "What have I done?" he whispered brokenly, feeling his knees about to give way underneath him. "_**Frodo, I'm sorry! Frodo!**_"

XxX

_"Frodo!"_

Boromir's cry echoed through the air, and everyone was instantly on high alert. Talion entered the wraith world again as he leapt to his feet, Eltariel following close behind as he sprinted through the trees, following the trail of footsteps. Aragorn had everyone split off into pairs to search the area, he himself following in the direction Talion had gone, Sam trying to keep up with him. Merry and Pippin went one direction while Legolas and Gimli went another. Talion, leaving the wraith world, and Eltariel stopped as they saw a distraught Boromir kneeling in the brush, staring down at his hands in horror.

"Boromir!" Talion exclaimed, crouching down beside him. "What happened? Where's Frodo?"

"Gone. H-He's gone." Boromir's voice shook, eyes full of remorse, staring off unfocusedly.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Eltariel questioned.

"I tried to take the Ring," Boromir answered, looking to her. "I tried to take it and he ran."

"Did you hurt him?" Talion asked lowly, eyes dangerous. Boromir shook his head shakily.

"No. I… I stopped before I could, but…" He got to his feet again, trying to take a deep breath. "I don't know where he went."

"We need to find him. There's no telling what dangers he might run into by himself," Eltariel insisted. Talion nodded, entering the wraith world again and searching the area, eyes landing on a set of bright footsteps leading away from the area.

"This way," Talion told them, and Boromir and Eltariel followed closely behind him.

Ahead of them, Frodo, still cloaked by the One Ring, continued running, pausing only when flashes of Mordor filled his vision. A red, flaming eye appeared, its hissed whispers making his skin crawl, and it wasn't until an overwhelming sense of terror and panic filled him that he took the Ring off, tumbling off a stone structure and landing in the brush below.

"Frodo?" Frodo looked up to see a concerned Aragorn approaching, stopping a few feet away.

"It has taken Boromir," Frodo told him in a rush, and Aragorn was immediately on high alert.

"Where is the Ring?"

"Stay back!" Frodo shouted, scrambling away as Aragorn attempted to go closer. He skirted around the stone structure he'd tumbled off of, Aragorn, who was not far behind him, freezing with his hands held up, confused and concerned.

"Frodo! I swore to protect you."

"Can you protect me from yourself?" He opened his clenched hand, the One Ring, sans chain, laying in his palm. "Would **you **destroy it?" Aragorn's eyes were immediately drawn to it, and just like Isildur's Ring it pulled him in. He heard dark ominous whispers emanate from it, and desire consumed him even more so this time for a brief moment. His hand hovered shakily over it, and Frodo looked to him fearfully, terrified that Aragorn might take it. Aragorn dropped to one knee, gently closing Frodo's hand over the One Ring and squeezing it reassuringly, placing it against his chest.

"I would have gone with you to the end… Into the great fires of Mordor." Frodo met his sad eyes gratefully, a lump in his throat.

"I know… Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand." Aragorn looked like he wanted to say something else, but his gaze was drawn to the eerie blue glow at Frodo's hip. He drew his sword as he backed away to his feet. Frodo drew Sting to see it glowing fiercely, the panic within him renewed.

"Run!" Aragorn told him, and Frodo did as he was asked, sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction as Aragorn turned around, greeted by the sight of a small army of Uruk-hai. He took a deep breath, holding his sword confidently as they rushed him.

The sounds of battle drew the ears of the rest of the Fellowship, all of them immediately changing direction as a dark, furious shout of, "Find the halflings!" echoed through the trees. Legolas and Gimli were the first to reach Aragorn, arrows piercing several enemies at once and an axe slicing cleanly through whoever got in its way.

"Aragorn, go!" Legolas shouted, an arrow slaying three approaching Uruk-hai with ease. Legolas and Gimli held their group at bay as Aragorn rushed after Frodo, slaying any who dared try and lay their hands on him. Frodo stumbled behind a large tree, hidden from the sight of passing Uruk-hai. Merry and Pippin, who had been heading that direction, called to Frodo from across the way, hiding behind fallen trees and tall vegetation.

"Frodo! Hide here, quick!" Pippin whisper shouted as Merry gestured furiously their way. Frodo looked to them, heartbroken, knowing he wasn't staying and couldn't do what they asked. Pippin didn't understand why he wasn't moving, but Merry put the pieces together.

"He's leaving," Merry realized, and Pippin's eyes went wide before he burst out of his hiding spot, refusing to let Frodo go on without them. Merry tried to pull him back out of sight, but it was too late as more Uruk-hai swarmed the area. Merry met Frodo's terrified gaze sorrowfully before determination filled them. "Run, Frodo!" he told him as he and Pippin turned their attention to the enemy, shouting and getting their attention, running in the opposite direction to lead them away. Frodo looked after them until they disappeared from sight, closing his eyes to hold back tears before setting out at a run again.

Aragorn had reunited with Legolas and Gimli, the three surrounded but still holding their own fairly well. Merry and Pippin had led the Uruk-hai a fair distance away before their ranks cut off any chance of escape. The two found themselves trapped, back to back, frozen in fear, and just as all hope seemed lost Boromir appeared, halting the enemy's mace and piercing its gut with his blade with a battle cry. Eltariel and Talion weren't far behind, swords drawn, welcoming a fight. Merry and Pippin drew their own blades, keeping close to Boromir as they put their training to use. Even with the added numbers, however, the five were very outnumbered, and so Boromir raised the Horn of Gondor to his lips and blew as loud as he could the first opportunity he had.

Across the forest Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas froze, having slain the last of the Uruk-hai in that area. Legolas and Aragorn's eyes went wide with recognition. "The Horn of Gondor," Legolas whispered.

"Boromir!" Aragorn exclaimed, and the three rushed off in the direction of the sound, hoping they would reach him in time. The three fought with desperation and renewed vigor in their haste.

The strains of battle had started to weigh on everyone. Boromir swung viciously, felling many, a million thoughts rushing through his head. The most prominent one was to keep the halflings safe.

"Go!" Boromir shouted to them, and the two retreated a safe distance, throwing stones at the still incoming flood of enemies. Talion and Eltariel took turns picking Uruk-hai off and defending the other, beams of light and spectral arrows from a newly returned Azkar and their sharp blades cutting down what would have been too much for Boromir to handle on his own. Even so, the numbers didn't seem to dwindle, and no one could have predicted what would happen next. Eltariel whirled around in a furry, blades slicing through anyone that got near them, and as Talion's eyes scanned the battlefield they fell on an Uruk-hai war chief who was aiming a bow. He was aiming the bow directly at—

It happened in the blink of an eye. Boromir stumbled back at Talion shadow struck his way in front of him, and arrow piercing a weak spot in his armor, right next to his heart. Talion took the hit with a pained cry, feet unsteady as he tried to remain standing. Eltariel looked around in alarm at the sound, eyes landing on a wounded Talion in horror. Boromir stood stunned for a moment as Talion continued to swing, ignoring the injury as best he could before another arrow pierced him. Talion groaned, falling to one knee briefly, and Boromir snapped out of his trance, slaying any Uruk-hai that approach, defending Talion. Eltariel tried to move towards them, but found herself surrounded, struggling to fight her way through the wall of enemies between them without serious harm. Talion continued fighting, even as his vision swam and he felt his blood start to run cold. He flung Boromir aside as yet another arrow flew their way, this time alarmingly close to his neck, and he choked as he fell, pinning an exhausted Boromir between himself and a sturdy tree trunk.

Eltariel called out to them, distracted, falling victim to a hard blow to the gut, the wind knocked out of her before a strong mace strike sent her flying back a few feet. Her head collided with a tree with a heavy _thud!_ and she lay unmoving in the brush, swords slipping from her grasp. The remaining Uruk-hai swept up Merry and Pippin, who shouted and struggled to no avail as they were captured, the horde moving on now that they'd gotten what they were looking for. One remained, slowly approaching a trapped Boromir and barely conscious Talion. Talion looked up at the war chief, and though his eyes were beginning to fail him he recognized his foe.

"Lurtz," Talion growled, coughing up blood as he glared up defiantly at his adversary.

"Gravewalker," Lurtz greeted back with a sick smile, aiming his bow directly between his eyes. "I will enjoy watching you suffer."

"I have… Faced death before. I… Am not afraid." Talion just needed a little more time. With what was left of his strength he summoned a wraith version of himself that slowly stalked towards Lurtz, a spectral Acharn raised, awaiting the signal for a killing blow. He felt his stomach tie itself in knots as Lurtz's smile widened, eyes shining brightly with evil intent as he raised the bow, now pointed at a defenseless Boromir.

"Who said anything about killing **you?** When there is a target even more satisfying…" Boromir met the Uruk-hai's gaze without fear, teeth bared.

"You'll never kill me," Boromir assured him, grinning tiredly, yet victoriously as a spectral dagger pierced Lurtz's throat before slicing his neck clean from his shoulders, his body collapsing right in front of them. Talion grinned, pushing himself off of Boromir as much as he could before he felt his limbs go numb, his strength failing. Boromir scrambled up, turning Talion over onto his back, hands hovering precariously over the arrows sticking out of his armor. He had to think of something fast. He could at least remove the arrows and cover the wounds. Then, if he could just find Aragorn and Legolas, perhaps they could make salves from the herbs they could find around there. And after that they could—

"Boromir," Talion whispered with a soft laugh, sensing Boromir's train of thought. "Don't bother. There's nothing you can do." Boromir shook his head in denial, distraught, pulling Talion into his arms.

"No. No, you saved my life. Again. Those arrows were meant for **me**."

"And I swore that the peril you sensed, your death here, wouldn't come to pass. I am a man of my word." Talion grimaced, coughing again, and Boromir shook his head once more.

"We can't do this without you. You can't die here! Not for me! Not for someone who jeopardized this quest, the fate of this world!"

"You are… A good man, Boromir," Talion told him, smiling softly. "The Fellowship needs you more than it needs me. And… Your brother… Awaits your return." Boromir felt himself choke up.

"And what of defeating Sauron, destroying the One Ring, freeing Middle-Earth from darkness?"

"My journey will not end here, my friend… But you'll never catch up to Frodo… If you stay here with me."

"I won't leave you here," Boromir protested. "You're coming with me," he insisted. "We'll return to Minas Tirith together, just like we talked about!"

"The Fellowship needs you. The **halflings** need you. Not me." Boromir looked to him in despair, and Talion grabbed his wrist weakly. "Promise me something, Boromir. Promise me that you… Will not lose hope. If you do… Then Sauron has already won."

"I…" Boromir looked into Talion's eyes, finding himself grounded, a little bit of hope breaking through the dark haze that had been settling over him. He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I promise," he told him. Talion smiled at him, and Boromir held his gaze until the light faded from his eyes, skin cold and pale, body limp and heavy. Boromir felt a sob escape him, head falling on Talion's chest. He only lifted it when he heard footsteps approaching, sword brandished menacingly as he growled.

"Boromir!" Aragorn exclaimed, and Boromir lowered his sword in relief. "Where's…?" His eye fell on Talion's unmoving form, falling to his knees next to them in disbelief. "_**No**_. Talion…" He bowed his head , taking one of Talion's hands as Legolas and Gimli joined them, Legolas with an arm around a disoriented Eltariel. Gimli leaned on his axe in sorrow while Legolas bowed his head at the sight.

"Talion…" Eltariel whispered, a raw emptiness briefly overtaking her senses. She met Aragorn's gaze as he looked towards her, an understanding passing between them. He nodded as her gaze flickered between Boromir, Talion, and him. He took Urfael gently in his grasp, laying it in Talion's hand, closing it around the handle. He and Boromir placed it against his chest, closing his eyes.

"Be at peace… Son of Gondor…" Boromir whispered. He let out a harsh breath.

"Are you injured, Boromir?"

"Nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. Why?"

"We have to keep moving. Frodo will have left by now, and we must find Merry and Pippin, before the trail goes cold."

"They took the halflings," Boromir told him defeatedly. "Merry and Pippin. They're…"

"Then we must find them," Legolas told him. Boromir looked to him and then back to Talion before slowly shaking his head, drawing shocked looks from everyone else.

"I'm not going," Boromir told them quietly.

"What do you mean you're not going?!" Gimli demanded to know. "You're not staying here!"

"I am taking his body to Gondor," Boromir told them vehemently. "He… He wanted to see the city again. The least I can do now is make sure he is laid to rest in his homeland."

"Boromir, he—

"Talion's not—

"I must also apologize to Frodo… For what I did. If I take the eastern shore, I can find my way to Osgiliath. Though the area is treacherous, it will lead me home… My mind will not be swayed," Boromir insisted, ignoring Eltariel and Aragorn's attempts to explain the situation. Boromir tightened his grip on Talion, hoisting him up as he got to his feet. "I am going."

"Boromir…" Aragorn tried once more before Eltariel interrupted him.

"Let him go," she told him, all of the shocked looks now directed her way. "Talion would have wanted it this way." Aragorn met her gaze again in confusion. Later, her eyes said. He held her gaze, trying to understand, and after a few moments he sighed in resignation.

"I am hopeful our paths will cross again. Know that if they don't, with whatever strength is in my blood, I will not let the white city fall, nor our people fail." Boromir's heart warmed at that.

"Our people…" he repeated, smiling slightly. "I would have followed you, my brother. My captain… My king…" He bowed his head in respect to Aragorn, who smiled at him sadly, nodding.

"Be safe, Boromir."

"And you. **All** of you," he replied. He received nods from the others, and headed back towards the shore as the others remained behind. Eltariel, Legolas, and Gimli looked to Aragorn.

"Can you walk, Eltariel?" he asked. She pulled away from Legolas' grasp, taking a few shaky steps for good measure.

"Well enough. Will we follow them?"

"Frodo may have already reached the eastern shore by the time we get back," Legolas told them worriedly.

"And Sam, no doubt, will have gone with him. He followed me further into the trees, but he didn't go near the fighting. He must have gone back to the shore to join Frodo," Aragorn stated. He sighed again, and Legolas caught his expression, face falling.

"You mean not to follow them," Legolas realized.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands."

"Then it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed," Gimli responded forlornly. Aragorn matched his expression, before a fiery determination took hold of him, and he clasped Legolas and Gimli's arms, meeting Eltariel's gaze as well.

"Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death, not while we have strength left." Legolas, Gimli, and Eltariel looked to him and then to one another, suddenly filled with resolve. He sheathed his sword, standing to lead the way back. "Leave all that can be spared behind when we return to the shore. We travel light… Let us hunt some orc." Gimli, Legolas, and Eltariel all shared a smile, Gimli letting out an excited cry as he ran after Aragorn, Eltariel and Legolas grinning as they followed swiftly behind.

The Fellowship was no more, broken into several pieces, each traveling their own path, until they could all reunite again when the time came. At shore, Boromir gently placed Talion's body on one side of a boat, struggling to climb in as he pushed it into the waters. He managed to right himself before he could fall, one half of the Horn of Gondor not so fortunate as it fell into the river without a sound. He secured his pack, rowing them across to the eastern shore, Frodo and Sam's boat already abandoned.

Frodo and Sam stood atop a rocky cliff, mountain ranges and the fiery shadow of Mordor in the distance. Frodo worried over the others, hoping they were safe, wondering if they would ever all see each other again. Sam reassured him, a bright presence in the darkness that threatened to send Frodo into a hopeless despair.

"I'm glad you're with me, Sam," he told him with a grateful, genuine smile, and Sam smiled back, staying by Frodo's side as they continued forward.

Closing A/N: Not grammar checked at all and certainly not perfect, but just about how I wanted it. Fellowship of the Ring is done! I still can't believe I got this far. Last update for a little while, I'm afraid, but hopefully this cliffhanger is worth the wait. Again, thank you so much for coming this far with me, and I'll see you guys next chapter! :)


	11. Allies in Mordor

Chapter Eleven: Allies in Mordor

A/N: Hello. It's been a while. :) Planning out and rewriting Two Towers is going to take some more time, BUT there's still a whole host of characters from Shadow of War that exist who have been working in the background of what's happened in the fic thus far. They'll all hopefully play a part in, I guess what you would call "Act III" of this fic once we hit Return of the King material, and maybe a bit before as well. Let's catch up with all of our lovely allies, warchiefs, etc. in Mordor, shall we? References to the Desolation of Mordor DLC near the beginning.

Minas Morgul had been strangely quiet for some time. The orcs knew this, as did the creatures and peoples of Mordor. The ones who took the most notice, however, were the Nazgul. After being routed from the Ford of Bruinen they had returned to regroup and once again set out in search of the One Ring, retaking control of the fallen city. Hostile orcs and Uruk-hai seemed encouraged by this, and slowly but surely the shaky state of peace Talion had established throughout Mordor seemed to crumble from within. Attacks on strongholds, raids of small towns and cities, imprisonment of innocent civilians, the reforming of enemy warchief ranks… The atmosphere of hope seemed to evaporate in the blink of an eye.

But the Gravewalker never worked alone.

XxX

"You know, it's been some time since I've had **this** much firepower in battle! _**I like it!**_" Baranor looked over at his brother, Serka, leader of the renowned and vicious mercenary group called the Vanishing Sons, with a raised eyebrow, deftly dodging a nasty looking spear from an Uruk-hai.

"Don't let it go to your head, brother! There is still a battle to be won here!" Baranor told him over the roar of battle. A drake zoomed past overhead, spitting a plume of flames along a large group of advancing orcs just outside of Gorgoroth's fortress. The two held their ground above the front gate, keeping an eye out for any more waves of enemies while still at a good vantage point to see the rest of their surroundings. Serka ducked as Baranor's blade swept his direction, beheading an orc approaching from behind. Steel bolts flew from the Numenorian device on his arm, multiple headshots taking down a small approaching group. Serka rolled forward, shoving a very unfortunate pair of orcs into the flames below before turning back towards the inside of the fortress.

"Looks like your _overlord_ needs a bit of assistance!" Baranor turned and followed his gaze, surprised to see Bruz down on one knee, surrounded. It was a rare sight to see the unbeaten Olog as wounded as he was. It wouldn't be long, however, before a storm of arrows rained down on the hostile party, a lithe, agile figure swooping down to kill the last enemy with a sword through the skull. Baranor grinned, and Serka looked between them in confusion. "Who's she?" Baranor didn't answer, grappling hook allowing him to quickly maneuver himself back to the ground. "Hey! You're just going to leave me up here?!" Serka looked around for a ladder down, finding one halfway across the courtyard. He huffed. "Lovely. First we're back to working with more orcs and now this…"

"Hold down the courtyard! The main waves are over, but there's no telling which other warchiefs will try to take advantage of our current state!" Her armor was a bit more battleworn, eyes a bit sharper, a small scar across her right cheek, hair dirtied by soot and ash, but Baranor would recognize her anywhere. She turned to him, pleasantly surprised, sporting an equally as excited grin as he landed in front of her. "Baranor! Judging by the Numenorian technology and the well armed men, I take it your mission was a success?"

"Idril," Baranor greeted her warmly, pulling her into a brief, but tight, embrace before pulling back. "It was." With help, might he add. Torvin, as he learned the dwarf's name was, had been responsible for the Numenorian technology and a fortunate rescue after wyrms had devoured his men at the start of his journey in the desert. And, of course, Serka and his mercenaries. "Shindram is no longer a threat, what's left of it, anyway." Idril's men dropped down beside her, greeting Baranor kindly. Baranor greeted them kindly in return before his eyes swept his surroundings.

Corpses, both man and orc, littered the courtyard and upper levels of the fortress, pools of blood and abandoned weapons beneath them. Wooden structures smoldered from drake fire, wounded allies being tended to, caragors being wrestled back into their cages. The air was thick with even more smoke than usual, the air almost painful to breathe at times. The always dark sky seemed even more ominous and disheartening than usual, if such a thing was even possible when Barad-dur wasn't too far from their current location.

"It seems you and your men have seen your fair share of battle," Baranor observed. "How goes the fight within Mordor?" Idril brushed some stray strands of hair from her eyes, sheathing her sword with a sigh.

"Not as well as I'd like. While Nurnen's beasts have kept most orcs at bay, Cirith Ungol and Seregost have come increasingly under attack. It's now to a point where orcs are attacking faster than we can rebuild and rearm, in growing numbers. Without Talion, our numbers drop as the enemy's numbers rise. Udun is all but a lost cause now, and…" Her gaze hardened at her next statement. "The Nazgul have returned to Minas… Morgul." Baranor's face fell at that.

Word had reached him on his way to the desert outskirts of Mordor that Talion had left in search of the fabled One Ring. Everyone knew conditions would only worsen in his absence, but no one could have predicted it to happen so quickly.

"So because your Gravewalker friend decided to go chase an old warrior's tale we're outnumbered and unprepared?" Serka piped up, appearing at their sides with a frown. "The way you described him, he sounded like some sort of hero of legend." Idril regarded Serka with a piercing stare.

"And who's this?" she asked.

"This is Jagai, my older brother," Baranor introduced. "Known as Serka among the Vanishing Sons."

"And you trust him?" She regarded Serka warily, and he fidgeted under her sharp gaze.

"With my life," she received in response, expression softening as it fell on Baranor again.

"Good. We're going to need all the men we can get, if you're still with me." Baranor nodded.

"Always."

"There have been attacks on towns and cities in addition to the strongholds. They've taken many prisoners. There's word of an orc camp hidden in one of the cave systems where some of them have been taken, with others scattered across every region of Mordor." Serka looked between the two in bewilderment as they discussed their plans of rescue, realizing he wasn't going to get a say here. He sighed. **More** insane adventures, it seemed.

"Since there's no talking you two out of it, fine. **Then **where are we going?"

XxX

"The Black Gate," Skak murmured to himself, pacing restlessly on the ledge overlooking the stronghold's interior. He hadn't been the most eager orc when Talion had asked him to be the overlord of Nurnen's fortress, not too fond of the bright and lively surroundings, but he'd come to almost like it now. He looked below him. Minor repairs were going on, catapults in need of rebuilding, medical station in need of a renovation, rotting and charred wooden structures in the process of being replaced. The Nurnen stronghold was the most well fortified and prosperous stronghold in Mordor, and so attacks were much easier to fend off when one had all the toys, traps, and creatures they could ask for, who did a marvelous job of devouring enemies, might he add. He paused, looking up at the green land around him and smiling. This always was Talion's favorite place.

But back to the issue at hand. He'd received reports that there had been a massive shift in hostile orc numbers towards the Black Gate as of late. The enemy's supply seemed endless. How in Middle-earth could there be so many attacking the fortresses with even more gathering **away** from them? Perhaps the numbers seemed greater because their own were dwindling. Or perhaps he was overthinking it? He scratched his head, arm bumping the axe lodged in the other side of his skull. Well, he never was quite the same after dying the first time, though he was never the brightest orc in the bunch to start…

He hummed in question as his dire caragor appeared, gently and sleepily headbutting his side. He reached down to scratch behind her ears with a half smile, but it disappeared from his face as quickly as it came. Speaking of greater numbers…

Communication from Amug indicated a rise in orcs attacks at Cirith Ungol, but he'd received no word from Ur-Edin in Seregost, so he could only assume they were suffering the same there. He understood trying to take over the strongholds, but why were troops migrating west? What was so important about the Black Gate that an army was amassing there? Mordor wasn't kept in the loop regarding the outside world, so he didn't know what could possibly be causing the change. What he did know was that whatever it was was setting **everyone** on edge.

He had such a way with beasts that they never saw fit to harm him: caragors, Graugs, or drakes. Because of Talion's influence most beasts left their forces and the human populations well enough alone, keeping to themselves. Lately, however, beasts had become more and more hostile, never attacking anyone, but seemingly one wrong move from doing so. Even Carnan, as weakened as she may be at the moment, was wary, the forest feeling even less inviting than usual. Morale was low, and he grew more concerned and restless by the hour. And, of course, who could forget the blood-curdling screeches of the Nazgul that echoed throughout the air and made even the bravest of Uruks and Ologs cower in fear?

Whatever it was Talion planned to do with the One Ring, and wherever he was, Skak hoped he returned, and soon, before things took another turn for the worse.

XxX

The tunnels beneath Cirith Ungol were quiet. Too quiet, as they had been for some time. With orcs busy swarming fortresses and heading towards the Black Gate, hardly any had passed through her domain in longer than she could remember. Most days she attempted to rest without much success, occasionally catching a small meal in her webs. She was surviving, but only just. When there was no rest in sight she contemplated the ever changing visions flashing beneath her closed eyes. Great battles, tests of trust, deception, greed, sorrow, illness, injury. Death. Destruction. It was a never ending cycle. There were, at least, a few images that stayed fixed at that point in time. This gave her a modicum of comfort.

Shelob knew that things couldn't keep going like this. She would have to do something eventually. As much as she despised leaving, she might have to consider it if circumstances didn't improve. She lay on a suspended bed of webs instead of her throne, mind quiet and clear for the first time in days. Perhaps she might finally be able to sleep. The notion was quickly dismissed as one of her children crawled up to her. She held a hand out for them, palm face up. Upon contact she saw a flash of images.

_The Fellowship of the Ring, separated, overwhelmed, struck a staggering blow. Arrows piercing Talion's armor as he shielded Boromir, son of Denethor, from certain death. Talion's final breath before he entered the cycle of death and revival once again. Boromir carrying him as he reached the opposite shore at Amon Hen…_

Her eyes snapped open, dulled and tired, but still just as sharp and piercing as usual, hand now empty. Her children were scattered far across Middle-earth. There were, in fact, a few stragglers in that area if she could only reach them. Her magic had begun weakening with her body, but she still had enough left to do this. She closed her eyes again and concentrated, reaching out with her magic until she found who she was looking for. Through another child's eyes she saw an exhausted Boromir, lying in a heap near the edge of a treeline, Talion's lifeless body sprawled out a few feet ahead of him. Crawling over and onto him she reached for his fea, distorted and dim and hardly resembling that of a mortal. At first there was nothing, no response, no consciousness detected. Then…

XxX

Celebrimbor awoke, mind fogged and vision hazy, in a dark nothingness, as he always did. The fight against Sauron only ever paused in moments like this. While Sauron was indeed more powerful than him, Celebrimbor's will would not be broken, would not be shaken. He endured every moment of pain and mental and physical agony, dishing it back out in kind when the advantage was his, the tide of battle turned in his favor. Sauron's was equally unshakeable, and so when their fea were at their limit, when they were _just_ at their breaking point, both of them succumbed to blissful nothingness, awaking to their pain and injuries healed, only to fight again when next they met, spirits more and more drained each time. They might wander for mere minutes, for what seemed like days, Celebrimbor didn't know. He had no concept of time here. What he did know was that they always found each other again, always drew their weapons again, always fought to kill… And never could.

As Celebrimbor wandered, feet dragging slightly, body lethargic and heavy feeling, he sometimes saw glimpses of memories old and new. Some he knew to be his. Others… Others belonged to Sauron. It made sense, bonded as they were, however unwillingly, that they would share memories much like he and Talion had. He looked up at one of his own memories, watching himself and Talion camping out under the stars in Nurnen, before the New Ring, early in their friendship. Talion lay back in the grass at the edge of a cliffside, staring upwards, as Celebrimbor sat cross-legged by the fire he had made.

"_There is something strangely calming about a clear night sky such as this," Talion told him, eyes less haunted, but colder, consumed by vengeance. "It eases my mind, halts my more unpleasant thoughts."_ Celebrimbor saw his past self look to Talion with an unreadable expression in his eyes. This, he realized, was one of the first nights he'd ever felt that there was something significant, however small of a thing it may be, they shared.

"_It does," Celebrimbor agreed after a moment of hesitation, gaze drifting upward. "Such a simple thing, stars in a dark sky, and yet…" _He felt Talion's eyes on him, surprised silence following, but gaze most likely curious. "_It feels… Hopeful."_

"_A light in the darkness," Talion elaborated. Celebrimbor gave a small smile. His exact thought._

"_Yes," he agreed, meeting Talion's gaze. Something seemed to change in the air between them, a small sense of comfort and understanding breaching the normally tense and indifferent atmosphere._

Celebrimbor pulled himself back to the present with an ache in his heart. There was so much he missed, longed for, regretted, wished he could change. There was so much he had to apologize for. There were things he should have said and done, things he shouldn't have in turn. He shook his head, attempting to rid his mind of such thoughts. It would not do to be caught reminiscing on simpler times by Sauron. His thoughts centered themselves back around just Talion…

Celebrimbor realized he could hardly feel him. He got no response when he tried to reach out, their bond within the New Ring cold and lifeless—Ah. As awful as it may sound, Celebrimbor was surprised Talion hadn't died much sooner. Deaths had occurred less and less as time went on in their time together, but they still happened, even in the lead up to the attack on Barad-dur. Leaving Mordor, braving Caradhras Pass, navigating Moria, all held more than enough risk for a death to happen. One wrong step, one well timed swing of an enemy's sword, one perfectly aimed arrow or crossbow bolt… He worried. The last time he and Talion had spoken was at the Gate of Moria, and the last time he had reached out had been when the Fellowship had emerged from the ruined city. What could have happened? He couldn't access Talion's memories when he was like this.

He tsked in frustration before he felt a pair of eyes on him, burning with hatred. Celebrimbor looked up to see an equally bone tired, yet determined Sauron in his elven form. Their eyes met, and in an instant adrenaline and unbridled fury rushed through them both. They drew their blades, not wasting another moment after as they moved with unbelievable speed, the _clang!_ of metal on metal reverberating through the space. Their eyes glowed with magic, fiery and dangerous. And so the vicious cycle began again…

Closing A/N: A bit short, a bit clunky, but a snapshot into what's going on in Mordor while the Fellowship is split. Don't know quite when the next chapter will be up because of one _small_ decision on the fallout of the split, but it shouldn't be too, too long? I shouldn't make statements like that, but fingers crossed. We shall see.

Also, I hope that everyone has been doing alright and staying healthy and safe with all of the craziness going on in the world right now. There have been a lot of rough and heartbreaking days, and I know there's a lot of fear and negativity in the air. Sending positive vibes and some air hugs to anyone that might need them right now! :)


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